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A    PICTURE    FROM    LIFE, 


LITTLE  STTNSHINE. 


LITTLE    SUNSHINE'S 
HOLIDAY: 

A    PICTURE    FROM   LIFE. 

BY  THE  V 

^AUTHOR  OF  "JOHN  HALIFAX,  GENTLEMAN." 


LITTLE   SUNSHINE'S   FRIENDS. 

{From  a  Photograph. ) 


NEW    YORK: 
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ISeTifcatetr 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S   LITTLE  FRIENDS. 


CONTENTS 


Page 
Chapter  1 15 

Chapter  II 32 

Chapter  III 49 

Chapter  IV 66 

Chapter  V 79 

Chapter  VI 98 

Chapter  VII 113 

Chapter  VIII 130 

Chapter  IX.... , 151 

Chapter  X 172 

Chapter  XI 191 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Little  Sunshine Frontispiece. 

Little  Sunshine's  Friends  {from  a  ) 

p  Title-page. 

Photograph) ) 

"That's  Mamma's  Pear!"  said  She .faces  p.  25 

Sunny's  Mamma  Telling  Stories "     141 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S 
HOLIDAY. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

WHILE  writing  this  title,  I  paused,  con- 
sidering whether  the  little  girl  to  whom 
it  refers  would  not  say  of  it,  as  she  sometimes 
does  of  other  things,  "  You  make  a  mistake." 
For  she  is  such  a  very  accurate  little  person. 
She  can  not  bear  the  slightest  alteration  of  a 
fact.  In  herself,  and  in  other  people  she  must 
have  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth.  For  instance,  one  day,  over- 
hearing her  mamma  say,  "I  had  my  shawl  with 
me,"  she  whispered,  "  No,  mamma,  not  your 
shawl ;  it  was  your  water-proof." 

Therefore,  I  am  sure  she  would  wish  me  to 
explain  at  once  that  "  Little  Sunshine "  is  not 
her  real  name,  but  a  pet  name,  given  because 
she  is  such  a  sunshiny  child ;  and  that  her 
"  holiday  "  was  not  so  much  hers — seeing  she 


16  LITTLE  SUNSHINE ' S  HOLIDA  T. 

was  then  not  three  years  old,  and  every  day 
was  a  holiday — as  her  papa's  and  mamma's, 
who  are  very  busy  people,  and  who  took  her 
with  them  on  one  of  their  rare  absences  from 
home.  They  felt  they  could  not  do  with- 
out her  merry  laugh,  her  little  pattering  feet, 
and  her  pretty  curls — even  for  a  month.  And 
so  she  got  a  "holiday"  too;  though  it  was 
quite  unearned :  as  she  has  never  been  to 
school,  and  her  education  has  gone  no  farther 
than  a  crooked  S,  a  round  (9,  an  M  for  mam- 
ma, and  a  D  for — but  this  is  telling. 

Of  course  Little  Sunshine  has  a  Christian 
name  and  surname,  like  other  little  girls,  but  I 
do  not  choose  to  give  them.  She  has  neither 
brother  nor  sister,  and  says  "  she  doesn't  want 
any — she  had  rather  play  with  papa  and  mam- 
ma." She  is  not  exactly  a  pretty  child,  but 
she  has  very  pretty  yellow  curls,  and  is  rather 
proud  of  "  my  curls."  She  has  only  lately  be- 
gun to  say  "I"  and  "my,"  generally  speaking 
of  herself,  baby -fashion,  in  the  third  person — 
as  "  Sunny  likes  that,"  "  Sunny  did  so-and-so," 
etc.  She  always  tells  every  thing  she  has  done 
and  every  thing  she  is  going  to  do.  If  she 
has  come  to  any  trouble — broken  a  tea-cup,  for 
instance — and  her  mamma  says,  "  Oh,  I  am  so 
sorry  !     Who  did  that  ?"  Little  Sunshine  will 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  L^OLIL AT.  17 

creep  up,  hanging  her  head  and  blushing, 
"  Sunny  did  it ;  she  won't  ever  do  it  again." 
But  the  idea  of  denying  it  would  never  come 
into  her  little  head.  Every  body  has  always 
told  the  exact  truth  to  her,  and  so  she  tells  the 
truth  to  every  body,  and  has  no  notion  of  there 
being  such  a  thing  as  falsehood  in  the  world. 

Still,  this  little  girl  is  not  a  perfect  character. 
She  sometimes  flies  into  a  passion,  and  says  "I 
won't"  in  a  very  silly  way — it  is  always  so  sil- 
ly to  be  naughty.  And  sometimes  she  feels 
thoroughly  naughty — as  we  all  do  occasional- 
ly— and  then  she  says,  of  her  own  accord, 
"  Mamma,  Sunny  had  better  go  into  the  cup- 
board" (her  mamma's  dressing-closet).  There 
she  stays,  with  the  door  close  shut,  for  a  little 
while ;  and  then  comes  out  again  smiling, 
"  Sunny  is  quite  good  now."  She  kisses  mam- 
ma, and  is  all  right.  This  is  the  only  punish- 
ment she  has  ever  had — or  needed,  for  she  nev- 
er sulks,  or  does  any  thing  underhand  or  mean 
or  mischievous ;  and  her  wildest  storm  of  pas- 
sion only  lasts  a  few  minutes.  To  see  mamma 
looking  sad  and  grave,  or  hear  her  say,  "T  am  so 
sorry  that  my  little  girl  is  naughty,"  will  make 
the  child,  good  again  immediately. 

So  you  have  a  faint  idea  o'f  the  little  person 
who  was  to  be  taken  on  this  "Ions:  holidav  ;  first 
B 


18  LITTLE  SUNSHINE '  S  HOLIDA  Y. 

in  a  "  puff-puff,"  then  in  a  boat — which  was  to 
her  a  most  remarkable  thing,  as  she  lives  in  a 
riverless  county,  and,  except  once  crossing  the 
Thames,  had  scarcely  ever  beheld  water.  Her 
mamma  had  told  her,  however,  of  all  the  won- 
derful things  she  was  to  see  on  her  holiday, 
and  for  a  week  or  two  past  she  had  been  say- 
ing to  every  visitor  that  came  to  the  house, 
"  Sunny  is  going  to  Scotland.  Sunny  is  going 
in  a  puff-puff  to  Scotland.  And  papa  will  take 
her  in  a  boat,  and  she  will  catch  a  big  salmon. 
Would  you  like.to  see  Sunny  catch  a  big  sal- 
mon?" For  it  is  the  little  girl's  firm  convic- 
tion that  to  see  Sunny  doing  any  thing  must  be 
the  greatest  possible  pleasure  to  those  about 
her — as  perhaps  it  is. 

Well,  the  important  day  arrived.  Her  mam- 
ma was  very  busy,  Little  Sunshine  helping  her 
— to  "help  mamma"  being  always  her  grand 
idea.  The  amount  of  work  she  did,  in  carry- 
ing her  mamma's  clothes  from  the  drawers  to 
the  portmanteau,  and  carrying  them  back 
again ;  watching  her  dresses  being  folded  and 
laid  in  the  trunk,  then  jumping  in  after  them, 
smoothing  and  patting  them  down,  and,  lastly, 
sitting  upon  them,  can  not  be  told.  Every  now 
and  then  she  looked  up,  "  Mamma,  isn't  Sunny 
a  busy  girl  ?" — which  could  not  be  denied. 


LITTLE  S UNSHINE ' S  HOLIDA  Y.  19 

The  packing-up  was  such  a  great  amuse- 
ment— to  herself,  at  least — that  it  was  with  dif- 
ficulty she  could  be  torn  from  it,  even  to  get 
her  dinner,  and  be  dressed  for  her  journey,  part 
of  which  was  to  take  place  that  day.  At  last 
she  was  got  ready,  a  good  while  before  any 
body  else,  and  then  she  stood  and  looked  at 
herself  from  head  to  foot  in  a  large  mirror,  and 
was  very  much  interested  in  the  sight.  Her 
travelling-dress  was  a  gray  water-proof  cloak, 
with  a  hood  and  pockets,  where  she  could  carry 
all  sorts  of  things — her  gloves,  a  biscuit,  the 
head  of  her  dolly  (its  body  had  come  off),  and 
two  or  three  pebbles,  which  she  daily  picked 
up  in  the  garden,  and  kept  to  wash  in  her  bath 
night  and  morning,  "  to  make  them  clean,"  for 
she  has  an  extraordinary  delight  in  things  be- 
ing "  quite  clean."  She  had  on  a  pair  of  new 
boots — buttoned  boots,  the  first  she  ever  had — 
and  she  was  exceedingly  proud  of  them,  as  well 
as  of  her  gray  felt  hat,  underneath  which  was 
the  usual  mass  of  curly  yellow  hair.  She 
shook  it  from  side  to  side  like  a  little  lion's 
mane,  calling  out,  "  Mamma,  look  at  Sunny's 
curls !     Such  a  lot  of  curls  !" 

When  the  carriage  came  to  the  door,  she 
watched  the  luggage  being  put  in  very  gravely. 
Then  all  the  servants  came  to  say  good-bye  to 


20  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

her.  They  were  very  kind  servants,  and 
very  fond  of  Little  Sunshine.  Even  the  gar- 
dener and  his  wife  looked  quite  sorry  to  part 
with  her,  but  in  her  excitement  and  delight  the 
little  lady  of  course  did  not  mind  it  at  all. 

"Good-bye!  good-bye!  I'm  going  to  Scot- 
land," she  kept  saying,  and  kissing  her  hand. 
"Sunny's  going  to  Scotland  in  a  puff-puff. 
But  she'll  come  back  again,  she  will." 

After  which  kind  promise,  meant  to  cheer 
them  up  a  little,  she  insisted  on  jumping  into 
the  carriage  "  all  by  her  own  self," — she  dearly 
likes  doing  anything  "all  my  own  self" — and, 
kissing  her  hand  once  more,  was  driven  away 
with  her  mamma  and  her  nurse  (whose  name 
is  Lizzie)  to  meet  her  papa  in  London. 

Having  been  several  times  in  a  "  puff-puff," 
and  once  in  London,  she  was  not  a  bit  fright- 
ened at  the  streets  or  the  crowd.  Only  in  the 
confusion  at  Euston  Square  she  held  very  tight 
to  her  mamma's  hand,  and  at  last  whispered, 
"  Mamma,  take  her  !  up  in  you  arms,  up  in  you 
own  arms  !" — her  phrase  when  she  was  almost 
a  baby.  And  though  she  is  now  a  big  girl, 
who  can  walk,  and  even  run,  she  clung  tightly 
to  her  mamma's  neck,  and  would  not  be  set 
down  again  until  transferred  to  her  papa,  and 
taken  by  him  to  look  at  the  engine. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  21 

Papa  and  his  little  girl  are  both  very  fond 
of  engines.  This  was  such  a  large  one,  newly 
painted,  with  its  metal- work  so  clean  and  shiny, 
that  it  was  quite  a  picture.  Though  some- 
times it  gave  a  snort,  and  a  puff,  like  a  live 
creature,  Sunny  was  not  afraid  of  it,  but  sat 
in  he.r  papa's  arms  watching  it,  and  then  walk- 
ed gravely  up  and  down  with  him,  'holding  his 
hand,  and  making  all  sorts  of  remarks  on  the 
things  she  saw,  which  amused  him  exceeding- 
ly. She  also  informed  him  of  what  she  was 
going  to  do — how  she  should  jump  into  the 
puff-puff,  and  then  jump  out  again,  and  sleep  in 
a  cottage,  in  a  quite  new  bed,  where  Sunny  had 
never  slept  before.  She  chattered  so  fast,  and 
was  so  delighted  at  everything  about  her,  that 
the  time  went  rapidly  by*;  and  her  papa,  who 
could  not  come  to  Scotland  for  a  week  yet, 
was  obliged  to  leave  her.  When  he  kissed 
her,  poor  Little  Sunshine  set  up  a  great  cry. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  go  'away.  Papa! 
papa !"  Then  bursting  in  to  one  of  her  pathet- 
ic little  furies,  "  I  won't  let  papa  go  away !  I 
won't!" 

She  clung  to  him  so  desperately  that  her  lit- 
tle arms  had  fairly  to  be  untied  from  round  his 
neck,  and  it  was  at  least  two  minutes  and  a 
half  before  she  could  be  comforted. 


22  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

But  when  the  train  began  to  move,  and  the 
carriageful  of  people  to  settle  down  for  the 
journey,  Sunny  recovered  herself,  and  grew 
interested  in  watching  them.  They  were  all 
gentlemen,  and  as  each  came  in,  mamma  had 
suggested  that  if  he  objected  to  a  child,  he  had 
better  choose  another  carriage ;  but  nobody  did. 
One — who  'looked  like  the  father  of  a  family — 
said:  "Ma'am,  he  must  be  a  very  selfish  kind 
of  man  who  does  object  to  children — that  is, 
good  children."  So  mamma  earnestly  hoped 
that  hers  would  be  a  good  child. 

So  she  was — for  a  long  time.  There  were 
such  interesting  things  to  see  out  of  the  win- 
dow: puff-puffs  without  end:  some  moving  on 
the  rails^-some  standing  still — some  with  a  long 
train  behind  them — ;some  without.  What  per- 
plexed and  troubled  Little  Sunshine  most,  was 
to  see  the  men  who  kept  running  across  the 
rails  and  ducking  under  the  engines.  She  got 
quite  excited  about  them. 

"  That  poor  man  must  not  go  on  the  rails, 
else  the  puff-puff  will  run  over  him  and  hurt 
him.  Then  Sunny  must  pick  him  up,  and  take 
him  to  her  nursery,  and  cuddle  him."  (She  al- 
ways wants  to  cuddle  every  body  who  is  ill  or 
hurt.)  "  Mamma,  tell  that  poor  man  he  mustn't 
go  on  the  rails." 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  23 

And  even  when  mamma  explained  that  the 
man  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  was  not 
likely,  to  let  himself  be  run  over  by  any  puff- 
puff,"  the  little  girl  still  looked  anxious  and  un- 
happy, until  the  train  swept  right  away  into 
the  open  country,  with  fields  and  trees,  and 
cows  and  baa-lambs.  These  last  delighted  her 
much.  She  kept  nodding  her  head  and  count- 
ing them.  "  There's  papa  baa-lambs,  and 
mamma  baa-lambs,  and  little  baby  baa-lambs, 
just  like  Little  Sunny  ;  and  they  all  run  about 
together ;  and  they  are  so  happy." 

Every  thing,  indeed,  looked  as  happy  as  the 
lambs  and  the  child.  It  was  a  bright  Septem- 
ber day,  the  trees  just  beginning  to  change  color, 
and  the  rich  midland  counties  of  England — full 
of  farms  and  pasture-lands,  with  low  hills  slop- 
ing up  to  the  horizon — looked  specially  beau- 
tiful. But  the  people  in  the  carriage  did  not 
seem  to  notice  any  thing.  They  were  all  gen- 
tlemen, as  I  said,  and  they  had  all  got  their  af- 
ternoon papers,  and  were  reading  hard.  Not 
much  wonder,  as  the  newspapers  were  terribly 
interesting  that  day — the  day  after  the  capitu- 
lation of  Sedan,  when  the  Emperor  Louis  Na- 
poleon surrendered  himself  and  his  army  to 
King  William  of  Prussia.  When  Little  Sun- 
shine has  grown  a  woman,  she  will  understand 


24  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

all  about  it.  But  now  she  only  sat  looking  at 
the  baa-lambs  out  of  the  window,  and  now  and 
then  pulling,  rather  crossly,  at  the  newspaper 
in  her  mamma's  hand.  "  I  don't  want  you  to 
read!"  In  her  day,  may  there  never  be  read 
such  dreadful  things  as  her  mamma  read  in 
those  newspapers! 

The  gentlemen  at  last  put  down  theirs,  and 
began  to  talk  together,  loudly  and  fast.  Sun- 
shine's mamma  listened,  now  to  them,  now  to 
her  little  girl,  who  asked  all  sorts  of  questions, 
as  usual.  "What's  that?  you  tell  me  about 
that,"  she  is  always  saying,  as  she  twists  her 
fingers  tight  in  those  of  her  mamma,  who  an- 
swers at  once,  and  exactly,  so  far  as  she  knows. 
When  she  does  not  know — and  even  mammas 
can  not  be  expected  to  understand  every  thing 
— she  says  plainly,  "My  little  girl,  I  don't 
know."  And  her  little  girl  always  believes  her, 
and  is  satisfied. 

Sunshine  was  growing  rather  tired  now ;  and 
the  gentlemen  kept  on  talking,  and  did  not 
take  any  notice  of  her,  or  attempt  to  amuse  her, 
as  strangers  generally  do,  she  being  such  a  live- 
ly and  easily -amused  child.  Her  mamma,  fear- 
ful of  her  restlessness,  struck  out  a  brilliant 
idea.  ^. 

Little  Sunshine  has  a  eousin  Georgy,  whom 


that's  mamma's  peak!"  said  she. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  ^5 

she  is  very  fond  of,  and  who  a  few  days  before 
had  presented  her  with  some  pears.  These 
pears  had  but  one  fault — they  could  not  be  eat- 
en ;  being  as  hard  as  bullets,  and  as  sour  as 
crabs.  They  tried  the  little  girl's  patience  ex- 
ceedingly, but  she  was  very  good.  She  went 
every  morning  to  look  at  them  as  they  stood 
ranged  in  a  row  along  mamma's  window-sill, 
and  kissed  them  one  by  one  to  make  them  ripe. 
At  last  they  did  ripen,  and  were  gradually  eat- 
en— except  one,  the  biggest  and  most  beautiful 
of  all.  "Suppose,"  mamma  suggested,  "that 
we  keep  it  two  days  more,  then  it  will  be  quite 
ripe  ;  mamma  will  put  it  in  her  pocket,  and  we 
will  eat  it  in  the  train,  half-way  to  Scotland." 
Little  Sunshine  looked  disappointed,  but  she 
did  not  cry,  nor  worry  mamma  —  who,  she 
knows,  never  changes  her  mind  when  once  she 
says  No — and  presently  forgot  all  about  it. 
Until,  lo!  just  as  the  poor  little  girl  was  get- 
ting dull  and  tired,  with  nothing  to  do,  and  no- 
body to  play  with,  mamma  pulled  out  of  her 
pocket — the  identical  pear  !  Such  a  pear  !  so 
large  and  so  pretty — almost  too  pretty  to  eat. 
The  child  screamed  with  delight,  and  immedi- 
ately began  to  make  public  her  felicity. 

"  That's  mamma's  pear  !"  said  she,  touching 
the  coat-sleeve  of  the  old  gentleman  next  her 


28  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

— a  very  grim  old  gentleman^an  American, 
thin  and  gaunt,  with  a  face  not  unlike  the  wolf 
in  Little  Red  Ridinghood.  "  That's  mamma's 
pear.  Mamma  'membered  (remembered)  to 
bring.  Sunny  that  pear!" 

"Eh  ?"  said  the  old  gentleman,  shaking  the 
little  fingers  off,  not  exactly  in  unkindness,  but 
as  if  it  were  a  fly  that  had  settled  on  him  and 
fidgeted  him.  But  Sunny,  quite*  unaccus- 
tomed to  be  shaken  off,  immediately  drew  back, 
shyly  and  half  offended,  and  did  not  look  at 
him  again.' 

He  went  on  talking,  in  a  cross  and  "cantan- 
kerous" way,  to  another  gentleman,  with  a  gray 
beard — an  Indian  officer,  j  ust  come  from  Cash- 
mere, which  he  declared  to  be  the  finest  country 
in  the  world  ;  while  the  American  said  angrily 
"  that  it  was  nothing  like  Virginia."  But  as 
neither  had  been  in  the  other  country,  they 
were  about  as  able  to  judge  the  matter  as  most 
people  are  when  they  dispute  about  a  thing. 
Nevertheless,  they  discussed  the  question  so 
violently,  that  Little  Sunshine,  who  is  not  used 
to  quarrelling,  or  seeing  people  quarrel,  opened 
her  blue  eyes  wide  with  astonishment. 

Fortunately,  she  was  engrossed  by  her  pear, 
which  took  a  long  time  to  eat.  First,  it  had  to 
be  pared — in  long  parings,  which  twisted  and 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  27 

dangled  like  Sunshine's  curls.  Then  these 
parings  had  to  be  thrown  out  of  the  window  to 
the  little  birds,  which  were  seen  sitting  here 
and  there  on  the  telegraph  wires.  Lastly,  the 
pear  had  to  be  eaten  slowly  and  deliberately. 
She  fed  mamma,  herself,  and  Lizzie  too,  turn 
and  turn  about,  in  the  most  conscientious  way  ; 
uttering  at  each  mouthful  that  ringing  laugh 
which  I  wish  I  could  put  into  paper  and  print ; 
but  I  can't.  By  the  time  all  was  done,  Sun- 
shine had  grown  sleepy.  She  cuddled  down 
in  her  mamma's  arms,  with  a  whispered  request 
for  "  Maymie's  apron." 

Now  here  a  confession  must  be  made.  The 
one  consolation  of  .life  to  this  little  person  is  the 
flannel  apron  upon  which  her  first  nurse  used 
to  wash  her  when  she  was  a  baby.  She  takes 
the  two  corners  of  it  to  stroke  her  face  with 
one  hand,  while  she  sucks  the  thumb  of  the 
other — and  so  she  lies,  meditating  with  open 
eyes,  till  at  last  she  goes  to  sleep.  She  is  nev- 
er allowed  to  have  the  apron  in  public,  so  to- 
day her  mamma  was  obliged  to  invent  a  little 
"  Maymie's  apron  " — a  small  square  of  flannel 
— to  comfort  her  on  the  long  railway  journey. 
This  being  produced,  though  she  was  a  little 
ashamed,  and  blushed  in  her  pretty  childish 
way,  she  turned  her  back  on  the  gentlemen  in 


28  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  carriage  and  settled  down  in  deep  content, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  mamma's  face.  Gradually 
they  closed — and  the  lively  little  woman  lay 
fast  asleep,  warm  and  heavy,  in  her  mamma's 
arms. 

There  she  might  have  slept  till  the  journey's 
end,  but  for  those  horrid  gentlemen,  who  began 
to  quarrel  so  fiercely  about  French  and  Prus- 
sians, and  which  had  the  right  of  it  in  this  ter- 
rible war — (a  question  which  you  little  folks 
even  when  you  are  great  big  folks  fifty  years 
hence  may  hardly  be  able  to  decide) — that  they 
disturbed  the  poor  child  in  her  happy  sleep, 
and  at  last  she  started  up,  looking  round  her 
with  frightened  eyes,  and  began  to  scream  vio- 
lently. She  had  been  so  good  all/^he  way,  so 
little  trouble  to  any  body,  that  mamma  could 
not  help  thinking  it  served  the  gentlemen  right, 
and  told  them  severely  that  "if  gentlemen  did 
differ,  they  need  not  do  it  so  angrily  as  to 
waken  a  child."  At  which  phey  all  looked 
rather  ashamed,  and  were  quiet  for  the  rest  of 
the  journey. 

It  did  not  last  much  longer ;  and  again  the 
little  girl  had  the  fun  of  jumping  out  of  a  puff- 
puff  and  into  a  carriage.  The  bright  day 
closed ;  it  was  already  dusk,  and  pouring  rain, 
and  they  had  to  drive  a  long  way,  stop  at  sev- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  29 

eral  places,  and  see  several  new  people  whom 
Little  Sunshine  had  never  seen  before.  She 
was  getting  tired  and  hungry ;  but  still  kept 
good  and  did  not  cry;  and  when  at  last  she 
came  to  the  cottage  which  her  mamma  had  told 
her  about,  where  lived  an  old  gentleman  and 
lady  who  had  been  very  kind  to  mamma,  and 
dear  grandmamma  too,  for  many  years,  and 
would  be  very  kind  to  the  little  girl,  Sunny 
ran  in  at  once,  as  merry  as  possible. 

After  a  while  mamma  followed,  and  lo ! 
there  was  Little  Sunshine,  quite  at  home  al- 
ready, sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  white  sheep- 
skin hearth-rug,  having  taken  half  her  "things" 
off,  chattering  in  the  most  friendly  manner,  and 
asking  to  be  lifted  up  to  see  "  a  dear  little  baby 
and  a  mamma,"  which  was  a  portrait  of  the  old 
lady's  eldest  sister  as  an  infant  in  her  mother's 
arms,  about  seventy  years  ago. 

And  what  do  you  think  happened  next? 
Sunny  actually  sat  up  to  supper,  which  she 
had  never  done  in  all  her  life  before — supper  by 
candle-light:  a  mouthful  of  fowl,  and  a  good 
many  mouth  fills  of  delicious  cream,  poured, 
with  a  tiny  bit  of  jam  in  the  middle  of  it,  into 
her  saucer.  And  she  made  a  large  piece  of  dry 
toast  into  "fishes,"  and  swam  themln  her  mam- 
ma's tea,  and  then  fished  them  out  with  a  tea- 


30  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

spoon,  and  ate  them  up.  Altogether  it  was  a 
wonderful  meal,  and  left  her  almost  too  wide 
awake  to  go  to  bed,  if  she  had  not  had  the  de- 
light of  sleeping  in  her  mamma's  room  instead 
of  a  nursery,  and  being  bathed,  instead  of  in  her 
own  proper  bath,  in  a  washing-tub ! 

This  washing-tub  was  charming.  She  eyed 
it  doubtfully,  she  walked  round  it,  she  peered 
over  it ;  at  last  she  slowly  got  into  it. 

"  Come  and  see  me  in  my  bath;  come  and 
see  Sunny  in  her  bath,"  cried  she,  inviting  all 
the  family,  half  of  whom  accepted  the  invita- 
tion. Mamma  heard  such  shouts  of  laughing, 
with  her  little  girl's  laugh  clearer  than  all,  that 
she  was  obliged  to  go  up  stairs  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  There  was  Sunshine  frolicking 
about  and  splashing  like  a  large  fish  in  the  tub, 
the  maids  and  mistresses  standing  round,  ex- 
ceedingly amused  at  their  new  plaything,  the 
little  "  water-baby." 

But  at  last  the  day's  excitement  was^  over, 
and  Sunny  lay  in  her  white  night-gown,  cud- 
dled up  like  a  round  ball  in  her  mamma's  lap, 
sucking  her  Maymie's  apron,  and  listening  to 
the  adventures  of  Tommy  Tinker.  Tommy 
Tinker  is  a  young  gentleman  about  whom  a 
story,  "  a  quite  new  story,  which  Sunny  never 
heard   before,"  has   to   be   told    every   night. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  31 

Mamma  had  done  this  for  two  months,  till 
Tommy,  his  donkey,  his  father,  John  Tinker, 
who  went  about  the  country  crying  "Pots  and 
kettles  to  mend,"  his  school-fellow,  Jack,  and 
his  playfellow,  Mary,  were  familiar  characters, 
and  had  gone  through  so  much  that  mamma 
was  often  puzzled  as  to  what  should  happen  to 
them  next;  this  night  especially,  when  she 
herself  was  rather  tired,  but  fortunately  the  lit- 
tle girl  grew  sleepy  very  soon. 

So  she  said  her  short  prayers,  ending  with 
"  God  make  Sunny  a  good  little  girl"  (to  which 
she  sometimes  deprecatingly  adds,  "but  Sunny 
is  a  good  girl"),  curled  down  in  the  beautiful 
large  strange  bed — such  a  change  from  her  lit- 
tle crib  at  home — and  was  fast  asleep  in  no 
time. 

Thus  ended  the  first  day  of  Little  Sunshine's 
Holiday. 

C 


32  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY, 


CHAPTER  II. 

NEXT  morning  Little  Sunshine  was  awake 
very  early,  sitting  upright  in  bed,  and 
trying  to  poke  open  her  mamma's  eyes ;  then 
she  looked  about  her  in  the  new  room  with 
the  greatest  curiosity. 

"  There's  my  tub  !  there's  Sunny's  tub !  I 
want  to  go  into  my  tub  again !"  she  suddenly 
cried  with  a  shout  of  .delight,  and  insisted  on 
pattering  over  to  it  on  her  bare  feet,  and  swim- 
ming all  sorts  of  things  in  it — a  comb,  a  brush, 
biscuits,  the  soap-dish  and  soap,  and  a  large 
penny,  which  she  Jiad  found.  These  kept  her 
amused  till  she  was  ready  to  be  dressed,  after 
which  she  went  independently  down  stairs, 
where  her  mamma  found  her,  as  before,  sitting 
on  the  white  rug,  and  conversing  cheerfully 
with  the  old  gentleman  and  lady,  and  the  rest 
of  the  family. 

After  breakfast  she  was  taken  into  the  gar- 
den. It  was  a  very  nice  garden,  with  lots  of 
apple-trees  in  it,  and  many  apples  had  fallen  to 
the  ground.     Sunshine  picked  them  up  and 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  33^ 

brought  them  in  her  pinafore,  to  ask  mamma  if 
she  might  eat  them — for  she  never  eats  any 
thing  without  saying,  "May  I?"  and  when  it 
is  given  to  hershe  always  says,  "Thank  you." 

Then  she  went  back  into  the  garden  again, 
and  saw  no  end  of  curious  things.  Every 
body  was  so  kind  to  her,  and  petted  her  as  if 
there  had  never  been  a  child  in  the  house  be- 
fore, which  certainly  there  had  not  for  a  great 
many  years.  She  and  her  mamma  would  will- 
ingly have  staid  ever  so  much  longer  in  the 
dear  little  cottage,  but  there  was  another  house 
in  Scotland,  where  were  waiting  Sunshine's 
two  aunties  ;  not  real  aunties,  for  she  has  none, 
nor  uncles  neither ;  but  she  is  a  child  so  well 
loved,  that  she  has  heaps  of  adopted  aunts  and 
uncles  too.  These — Auntie  Weirie  and  Auntie 
Maggie — with  other  kind  friends,  expected  her 
without  fail  that  very  night. 

So  Sunny  was  obliged  to  say  good-bye,  and 
start  again,  which  she  did  on  her  own  two  little 
feet,  for  the  fly  forgot  to  come  ;  and  her  mam- 
ma, and  her  Lizzie,  and  two  more  kind  people, 
had  to  make  a  rush  of  more  than  a  mile,  or 
they  would  have  missed  the  train.  If  papa,  or 
any  body  at  home,  had  seen  them — half  walk- 
ing, and  half  running — and  carrying  the  little 
girl  by   turns,  or   making  her  run   between 


"34 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE' S  HOLIDAY. 


them,  till  she  said  mournfully,  "  Sunny  can't 
run— Sunny  is  so  tired  I" — how  sorry  they 
would  have  been ! 

And  when  at  the  station  she  lost  her  mam- 
ma, who  was  busy  about  luggage,  poor  Sunny's 
troubles  seemed  great  indeed.  She  screamed 
till  mamma  heard  her  ever  so  far  off,  and  when 
she  caught  sight  of  her  again,  she  clung  round 
her  neck  in  the  most  frantic  way.  "  I  thought 
you  was  lost ;  I  thought  you  was  lost." 

(Sunny's  grammar  is  not  perfect  yet.  She 
can  not  understand  tenses ;  she  says  "  brang  " 
instead  of  "brought,"  and  once  being  told  that 
this  was  not  right,  she  altered  it  to  "  I  brung," 
which,  indeed,  had  some  sense,  for  do  we  not 
say  "I  rang,"  and  "I  rung?"  Perhaps  Little 
Sunshine  will  yet  write  a  book  on  grammar — 
who  knows?) 

Well,  she  parted  from  her  friends,  quite 
cheerfully  of  course — she  never  cries  after  any 
body  but  her  mamma  and  papa — and  soon 
made  acquaintance  with  her  fellow-travellers, 
who  this  time  were  chiefly  ladies.  It  being 
nearly  one  o'clock,  two  of  them  took  a  beauti- 
ful basket  of  lunch  ;  sandwiches,  and  cakes,  and 
grapes.  Little  Sunshine  watched  it  with  grave 
composure  until  she  saw  the  grapes,  which 
were  very  fine.      Then   she   could   not   help 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  35 

whispering  to  her  mamma  very  softly,  "  Sunny 
likes  grapes." 

"Hush!"  said  mamma,  also  in  a  whisper, 
"  They  are  not  ours,  so  we  can't  have  them" — 
an  answer  which  always  satisfies  this  little  girl. 
She  said  no  more.  But  perhaps  the  young 
lady  who  was  eating  the  grapes  saw  the  silent, 
wistful  eyes,  for  she  picked  off  the  most  beau- 
tiful half  of  the  bunch  and  handed  it  over. 
"  Thank  you,"  said  Sunny,  in  the  politest  way. 
"Look,  mamma!  grapes! — shall  I  give, you 
one?"  And  the  delight  of  eating  them,  and 
feeding  mamma  with  them,  "  like  a  little  bird," 
altogether  comforted  her  for  the  troubles  with 
which  she  began  her  journey. 

Then  she  grew  conversational,  and  informed 
every  body  that  Sunny  was  going  to  Scotland, 
to  a  place  where  she  had  never  been  before, 
and  that  she  was  to  row  in  a  boat  and  catch 
big  salmon; — which  no  doubt  interested  them 
much.  She  herself  was  so  interested  in  every 
thing  she  saw,  that  it  was  impossible  not  to 
share-  her  enjoyment.  She  sat  or  stood  at  the 
carriage  window  and  watched  the  view.  It 
was  quite  different  from  any  thing  she  had 
been  used  to.  Sunny  lives  in  a  yqtj  pretty 
but  rather  level  country,  full  of  woods  and 
lanes,  and  hedges  and  fields  ;  but  she  had  nev- 


36  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

er  seen  a  bill  or  a  river,  or  indeed  (except  the 
Thames)  any  .-sort  of  water  bigger  than  a  horse- 
pond.  Mamma  had  sometimes  shown  her  pic- 
tures of  mountains  and  lakes,  but  doubted  if 
the  child  had  taken  it  in,  and  was  therefore 
quite  surprised  when  she  called  out,  all  of  a 
sudden,  "  There's  a  mountain  !" 

And  a  mountain  it  really  was — one  of  those 
Westmoreland  hills,  bleak  and  bare,  which 
gradually  rise  up  before  travellers'  eyes  on  the 
North  journey,  a  foretaste  of  all  the  beautiful 
things  that  are  corning.  Mamma,  delighted, 
held,  up  her  little  girl  to  look  at  it — the  first 
mountain  Sunny  ever  saw — with  its  long, 
smooth  slopes,  and  the  sheep  feeding  on  them, 
dotted  here  and  there  like  white  stones,  or  mov- 
ing about  like  walking  daisies. 

Little  Sunshine  was  greatly  charmed  with 
the  "baa-lambs."  She  had  seen  plepty  this 
spring — white  baa-lambs  and  black  baa-lambs, 
and  white  baa-lambs  with  black  faces — but 
never  so  many  at  a  time.  And  they  skipped 
about  in' such  a  lively  way,  and  stood  so  fun- 
nily in  steep  places,  with  their  four  little  legs 
all  screwed  up  together,  looking  at  the  train 
as  it  passed,  that  she  grew  quite  excited,  and 
wanted  to  jump  out  and  play  with  him. 

To  quiet  her,  mamma  told  her  a  story  about 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  37 

the  mountains,  how  curious  they  looked  in  win- 
ter, all  covered  with  snow ;  and  how  the  lambs 
were  sometimes  lost  in  the  snow,  and  the  shep- 
herds went  out  to  find  them,  and  carried  them 
home  in  their  arms,  and  warmed  them  by  the 
fireside  and  fed  them,  until  they  opened  their 
eyes,  and  stretched  their  little  frozen  legs,  and 
began  to  run  about  the  floor. 

Little  Sunshine  listened,  with  her  wide  blue 
eyes  fixed  on  the  mountain,  and  then  upon  her 
mamma's  /ace,  never  saying  a  word,  till  at 
length  she  burst  out  quite  breathless,  for  she 
does  not  yet  know  words  enough  to  get  out  her 
thoughts,  with — 

"I  want  a  little  baa-lamb.  No"— she  stop- 
ped and  corrected  herself — "I  want  two  little 
baa-lambs.  I  would  go  and  fetch  them  in  out 
of  the  snow,  and  carry  them  in  my  little  arms, 
and  lay  them  on  Maymie's  apron  by  my  nur- 
sery fire,  and  warm  them,  and  make  them  quite 
well  again.  And  the.  two  dear  little  baa- 
lambs would  play  about  together — so  pretty." 

It  was  a  long  speech — the  longest  she  had 
ever  made  all  at  once — and  the  little  girl's  eyes 
sparkled  and  her  cheeks  grew  hot,  with  the  dif- 
ficulty she  had  in  getting  it  out,  so  that  mamma 
might  understand.  But  mamma  understands 
a  good  deal.     Only  it  was  less  easy  to  explain 


38  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

to  Sunny  that  she  could  neither  have  a  lamb  to 
play  with,  nor  go  out  on  the  mountain  to  fetch 
it.  However,  mamma  promised  that  if  ever  a 
little  lamb  were  lost  in  the  snow  near  her  own 
house,  and  her  gardener  were  to  find  it,  he 
should  be  allowed  to  bring  it  in,  and  Sunny 
should  make  it  warm  by  the  fire  and  be  kind 
to  it,  until  it  was  quite  well  again. 

But  still  the  child  went  back  now  and  then 
to  the  matter  in  a  melancholy  voice.  "  I  don't 
like  a  dear  little  baa-lamb  to  be  lost  in  the  snow. 

I  want  a  little  baa-lamb  in  my  nursery.  I 
would  cuddle  it  and  take  such  care  of  it"  (for 
the  strongest  instinct  of  this  little  woman  is  to 

II  take  care"  of  people).  "  Mamma,  some  day 
may  Sunny  have  a  little  baa-lamb  to  take  care 
of?" 

Mamma  promised ;  for  she  knew  well  that 
if  Sunny  grows  up  to  be  a  woman,  with  the 
same  instinct  of  protection  that  she  has  now, 
God  may  send  her.  many  of  His  forlorn 
"lambs"  to  take  care  of. 

Presently  the  baa-lambs  were  forgotten  in  a 
new  sight — a  stream  ;  a  real,  flowing,  tumbling 
stream — which  ran  alongside  of  the  railway  for 
ever  so  far.  It  jumped  over  rocks,  and  made 
itself  into  white  foamy  whirlpools,  it  looked  so 
very  much  alive;  and  so  unlike  any  water  that 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  39 

Sunny  had  ever  seen  before,  that  she  was  quite 
astonished. 

"What's  that? — what's  that?"  she  kept  say- 
ing ;  and  at  last,  struck  with  a  sudden  idea : 
"  Is  it  Scotland  ?" 

What  her  notion  of  Scotland  was — whether 
a  place,  or  a  person,  or  a  thing — her  mamma 
could  not  make  out,  but  the  name  was  firmly 
fixed  in  her  mind,  and  she  recurred  to  it  con- 
stantly. All  the  long  weary  journey,  lasting 
till  long  after  her  proper  bed-time,  she  never 
cried  or  fretted,  or  worried  any  body,  but 
amused  herself  without  ceasing  at  what  she 
saw.  She  ate  her  dinner  .merrily — "such  a 
funny  dinner — no  plates,  no  forks,  no  table- 
clo'th" — and  her  tea — milk  drank  out  of -a  horn 
cup,  instead  of  "great-grandpapa's  mug,  which 
he  had  when  he  was  a  little  boy" — which  she 
used  when  at  home. 

As  the  day  closed  in,  she  grew  tired  of  look- 
ing out  of  the  window,  snuggled  up  in  her 
mamma's  arms,  and,  turning  her  back  upon  the 
people  in  the  carriage,  whispered,  blushing  very 
much*.  "Maymie's  apron — Sunny  wants  the 
little  Maymie's  apron ;"  and  lay  sucking  it 
meditatively,  till  she  dropped  asleep. 

She  was  asleep  when  the  train  reached  Scot- 
land.    She  did  not  see  the  stars  coming  out 


40  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

• 

over  the  Grampian  Hills,  nor  the  beautiful  fires 
near  Grartsherrie — that  ring  of  iron  furnaces, 
blazing  fiercely  into  the  night — which  are  such  a 
wonderful  sight  to  behold.  And  she  only  woke 
up  in  time' to  have  her  hat  and  cloak  put  on, 
and  be  told  that  she  was  really  in  Scotland, 
and  would  see  her  aunties  in  a  minute  more. 
And,  sure  enough,  in  the  midst  of  the  bustle 
and  confusion,  there  was  Auntie  Weirie's 
bright  face  at  the  carriage-door,  with  her  arms 
stretched  out«to  receive  the  sleepy  little  trav- 
eller. 

Four  or  five  miles  were  yet  to  be  accom- 
plished, but  it  was  in  a  comfortable  carriage, 
dark  and  quiet.  The  little  girl's  tongue  was 
altogether  silent — but  she  was  not  asleep,  for 
all  of  a  sudden  she  burst  out,  as  if  she  had  been 
thinking  over  the  matter  for  a  long  time: 
"  Mamma,  you  forgot  the  tickets." 

Every  body  laughed  ;  and  mamma  explained 
to  her  most  accurate  little  daughter  that  she 
had  given  up  the  tickets  while  Sunny  was 
asleep.  Auntie  Weirie  foreboded  merrily  how 
Sunny  would  "keep  mamma  in  order"  by- 
and-by. 

Yery  sleepy  and  tired  the  poor  child  was ; 
but,  except  one  entreaty  for  "  a  little  drop  of 
milk" — which  somehow  was  got  at — she  made 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  41 

no  complaint,  and  never  once  cried,  till  the 
carriage  stopped  at  the  house-door. 

Oh,  such  a  door,  and  such  a  house!  Quite 
a  fairy  palace!  And  there,  standing  waiting, 
was  a  pretty  lady — not  unlike  a  fairy  lady — 
who  took  Little  Sunshine  in  her  arms  and  car- 
ried her  off,  unresisting,  to  a  beautiful  drawing- 
room,  where,  in  the  great  tall  mirrors,  she  could 
see  herself  everywhere  at  full  length. 

What  a  funny  figure  she  was,  trotting  about 
and  examining  every  thing,  as  she  always  does 
on  entering  a  strange  room  !  Her  little  water- 
proof cloak  made  her  look  as  broad  as  she  was 
long;  and  when  she  tossed  off  her  hat,  her 
curls  tumbled  about  in  disorder ;  and  her  face 
and  hands  were  so  dirty,  that  mamma  was 
quite  ashamed.  But  nobody  minded  it,  and 
every  body  welcomed  her,  and  the  pretty  lady 
carried  her  off  again  up  stairs  into  the  most 
charming  extempore  nursery,  next  to  her  mam- 
ma's room,  where  she  could  run  in  and  out, 
and  be  as  happy  as  a  queen. 

She  was  as  happy  as  a  queen,  when  she 
woke  up  next  morning  to  all  the  wonders  of 
the  house.  First  there  was  a  poll-parrot,  who 
could  say  not  only  "  Pretty  Poll !"  but  a  great 
many  other  words:  could  bark  like  a  dog, 
grunt  like  a  pig,  and  do  all  sorts  of  wonderful 


42  LITTLE  S UNSHIXE ' &  HOLIDA  Y. 

things.  He  lived  chiefly  in  the  butler's  pantnr, 
but  was  brought  out  on  occasion  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  visitors.  Sunny  was  taken  to  see  him 
directly;  and  there  she  stood,  watching  him 
intently ;  laughing  sometimes  in  her  sudden, 
ecstatic  way,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and 
her  little  nose  all  crumpled  up ;  till,  being  only 
a  button  of  a  nose  at  best,  it  nearly  disappeared 
altogether. 

And  then,  in  the  breakfast-room,  there  were 
two  dogs — Jack,  a  young  rough  Scotch  terrier, 
and  Bob,  a  smooth  terrier,  very  ugly  and  old. 
Now  Sunny's  dog  at  home,  Eose,  who  was  a 
puppy  when  she  was  a  baby,  so  that  the  two 
were  brought  up  together,  is  the  gentlest  crea- 
ture imaginable.  She  will  let  Sunny  roll  over 
her,  and  pull  her  paws  and  tail,  and  even  put 
her  little  fat  hand  into  her  mouth,  without 
growling  or  biting.  But  these  strange  dogs 
were  not  used  to  children.  Sunny  tried  to 
make  friends  with  them,  as  she  tries  to  do  with 
every  live  creature  she  sees ;  even  crying,  one 
day,  because  she  could  not  manage  to  kiss  a 
spider,  it  ran  away  so  fast.  But  Bob  and  Jack 
did  not  understand  her  affection  at  all.  When 
she  stroked  and  patted  them,  and  vainly  tried 
to  carry  them  in  her  arms,  by  the  legs,  head, 
tail,  or  any  where  she  could  catch  hold  of,  they 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  43 

escaped  away,  scampering  off  as  fast  as  they 
could.  The  little  girl  looked  after  them  with 
mournful  eyes ;  it  was  hard  to  see  them  frolick- 
ing about,  and  hot  taking  the  least  notice  of  her. 

But  very  soon  somebody  much  better  than 
a  little  dog  began  to  notice  her — a  kind  boy 
named  Franky,  who,  though  he  was  a  school- 
boy, home  for  the  holidays,  did  not  think  it  in 
the  least  beneath  'his  dignity  to  be  good  to  a 
little  girl.  She  sat  beside  him  at  prayers,  dur- 
ing which  time  she  watched  him  carefully, 
and  evidently  made  up  her  mind  that  he  was 
a  nice  person,  and  one  to  be  played  with.  So 
when  he  began  playing  with  her,  she  responded 
eagerly,  and  they  were  soon  the  best  of  friends. 

Presently  Franky  had  to  leave  her  and  go 
with  his  big  brother  down  to  the  bottom  of  a 
coal  mine,  about  which  he  had  told  such  won- 
derful stories,  that  Little  Sunshine,  had  she 
been  bigger,  would  certainly  have  liked  to  go 
too.  "You  jump  into  a  basket,  and  are  let 
down,  down,  several  hundred  feet,  till  you  touch 
the  bottom,  and  then  you  find  a  new  world  un- 
der-ground :  long  passages,  so  narrow  that  you 
can  not  stand  upright,  and  loftier  rooms  be- 
tween, and  men  working — as  black  as  the  coal 
themselves — with  lights  in  their  caps.  Also 
horses,  dragging  trucks  full  of  coal — horses 


.< 


44  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

that  have  never  seen  the  daylight  since  they 
were  taken  down  the  pit,  perhaps  seven  or  ten 
years  ago,  and  will  never  see  daylight  again  as 
long  as  they  live.  Yet  they  live  happily,  are 
kindly  treated,  and  have  comfortable  stables, 
all  in  the  dark  of  the  coal  mine — and  no  doubt 
are  quite  as  content  as  the  horses  that  work  in 
the  outside  world,  high  above  their  heads." 

Sunshine  heard  all  this.  I  can  not  say  that 
she  understood  it,  being  such  a  very  little  girl, 
you  know ;  but  whenever  Franky  opened  his 
lips  she  watched  him  with  intense  admiration, 
and  when  he  was  gone  she  looked  quite  sad. 
However,  she  soon  found  another  friend  in  the 
pretty  lady,  Franky's  mamma.  Her  own  mam- 
ma was  obliged  to  go  out  directly  after  break- 
fast, so  this  other  mamma  took  Sunny  under 
her  especial  protection,  and  showed  her  all 
about  the  house.  First,  they  visited  the 'par- 
rot, who  went  through  all  his  performances 
over  again.  Then  they  proceeded  up  stairs  to 
what  used  to  be  the  nursery,  only  the  little 
girls  had  grown  into  big  girls,  and  were  now 
far  away  at  school.  But  their  mamma  showed 
Sunny  their  old  toy-cupboard,  where  were  ar- 
ranged, in  beautiful  order,  playthings  so  love- 
ly that  it  was  utterly  impossible  such  very  tiny 
fingers  could  safely  be  trusted  with  them. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  45 

So  Little  Sunshine  was  obliged  to  practise 
the  lesson  she  has  learnt  with  her  mamma's 
china  cabinet  at  home — "  Look  and  not  touch." 
Ever  since  she  was  a  baby,  Wedgwood  ware, 
Sevres  and  Dresden  china,  all  sorts  of  delicate 
and  precious  things,  have  been  left  within  her 
reach  on  open  shelves;  but  she  was  taught 
fro:n  the  first  that  she  must  not  touch  them, 
and  she  never  does.  "  The  things  that  Sunny 
may  play  with,"  such  as  a  small  plaster  hand,  a 
bronze  angel,  and  a  large  agate  seal,  she  takes 
carefully  out  from  among  the  rest,  and  is  con- 
tent with  them — just  as  content  as  she  was 
with  one  particular  doll  which  the  pretty  lady 
chose  out  from  among  these  countless  treasures 
and  gave  to  her  to  play  with. 

Now  Sunny  has  had  a  good  many  dolls — 
wooden  dolls,  gutta-percha  dolls,  dolls  made  of 
linen  with  faces  of  wax — but  none  of  them  had 
ever  lasted,  entire,  for  more  than  twenty-four 
hours.  They  always  met  with  some  misfor- 
tune or  other — lost  a  leg  or  an  arm  ;  their 
heads  dropped  off,  and  the  sawdust  ran  out  of 
their  bodies,  leaving  them  mere  empty  bits  of 
calico,  not  dolls  at  all.  The  wrecks  she  had 
left  behind  her  at  home — bodies  without  heads, 
heads  without  bodies,  arms  and  legs  sewed 
upon  bodies  that  did  not  belong  to  them,  or 


46  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

strewed  about  separately  in  all  directions — 
would  have  been  melancholy  to  think  of,  only 
that  she  loved  them  quite  as  well  in  that  dis- 
membered condition  as  when  they  were  new. 

But  this  was  a  dolly — such  a  dolly  as  Sunny 
had  never  had  before.  Perfectly  whole,  with  a 
pretty  waxen  face,  a  nose,  and  two  eyes ;  also 
hair,  real  hair  that  could  be  combed.  This  she 
at  once  proceeded  to  do  with  her  mamma's 
comb,  just  as  her  Lizzie  did  her  own  hair  every 
morning,  until  the  comb  became  full  of  long 
flaxen  hairs  —  certainly  not  mamma's  —  and 
there  grew  a  large  bald  place  on  the  top  of 
dolly's  head,  which  Sunny  did  not  understand 
at  all.  Thereupon  her  Lizzie  came  to  the 
rescue,  and  proposed  tying  up  the  poor  rem- 
nant of  curls  with-  a  blue  ribbon,  and  dressing 
dolly,  whose  clothes  took  off  and  on  beautiful- 
ly, in  her  out-of-doors  dress,  so  that  Sunshine 
might  take  her  a  walk  in  the  garden. 

Lizzie  is  a  very  ingenious  person  in  mending 
and  dressing  dollies,  and  has  also  the  gift  of 
unlimited  patience  with  her  charge ;  so  the 
toilet  went  off  very  well,  and  soon  both  Sun- 
shine and  her  doll  were  ready  to  go  out  with 
Franky's  mamma  and  see  the  cows,  pigs,  sheep, 
chickens,  and  all  the  wonders  of  the  outside  es- 
tablishment, which  was  a  very  .large  one. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  47 

Indeed  the  pretty  lady  showed  her  so  many 
curious  things,  and  played  with  her  so  much, 
that  when,  just  before  dark,  her  own  mamma 
came  back,  and  saw  a  little  roly-poly  figure,  hug- 
ging a  large  doll,  running  as  fast  as  ever  it  could 
along  the  gravel-walk  to  meet  her — she  felt 
convinced  that  the  first  day  in  Scotland  had 
been  a  most  delightful  one,  altogether  perfect 
in  its  way.  So  much  so  that,  when  put  to  bed, 
Sunny  again  forgot  Tommy  Tinker.  She  was 
chattering  so  much  of  all  she  had  seen,  that  it 
was  not  until  the  last  minute  that  she  remem- 
bered to  ask  for  a  "story." 

There  was  no  story  in  mamma's  head  to- 
night. .  Instead,  she  told  something  really  true, 
which  had  happened  in  the  street  near  the 
house  where  she  had  spent  the  day  : — 

A  poor  little  boy,  just  come  out  of  school,  was 
standing  on  the  top  of  the  school-door  steps, 
with  his  books  in  his  hand.  Suddenly  a  horse 
that  was  passing  took  fright,  rushed  up  the 
steps,  and  knocked  the  boy  down.  He  fell 
several  feet,  and  a  huge  stone  fell  after,  just  on 
the  top  of  him — and — and — 

Mamma  stopped.      She  could  not  tell  any 
more  of  the  pitiful  story.      Her  child's  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  her  face,  which  Little  Sunny 
reads  sometimes  as  plain  as  any  book. 
D 


48  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

"  Mamma,  was  the  poor  little  boy  hurt?" 

"  Yes,  my  darling." 

"  Yery  much  hurt  ?" 

"  Yery  much,  indeed." 

Sunny  sat  upright,  and  began  speaking  loud 
and  fast,  in  her  impetuous,  broken  way. 

"I  want  to  go  and  see  that  poor  little  boy. 
I  will  bring  him  to  my  nursery  and  put  him  in 
my  little  bed,  and  take  care  of  him.  Then  he 
will  get  quite  well." 

And  she  looked  much  disappointed  when 
her  mamma  explained  that  this  was  not  nec- 
essary; somebody  having  already  carried  the 
little  boy  home  to  his  mamma, 

"  Then  his  mamma  will  cuddle  him,  and 
kiss  the  sore  place,  and  he  will  be  quite  well 
soon.     Is  he  quite  well  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Sunny's  mam-ma,  after  a 
minute's  thought — "  yes,  he  is  quite  well  now ; 
nothing  will  ever  hurt  him  any  more." 

Sunny  was  perfectly  satisfied. 

But  her  mamma,  when  she  kissed  the  little 
curly  head,  and  laid  it  down  on  its  safe  pillow, 
thought  of  that  other  mother — mourning  over 
a  dead  child  —  thoughts  which  Little  Sun- 
shine could  not  understand,  nor  was  there  any 
need  she  should.  She  may,  some  day,  when 
she  has  a  little  girl  of  her  own. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  49 


CHAPTER  III. 

LITTLE  SUNSHINE  had  never  yet  be- 
held the  sea.  That  wonderful  delight,  a 
sea-beach,  with  little  waves  -running  in  and 
running  back  again,  playing  at  bo-peep  among 
shingle  and  rocks,  or  a  long  smooth  sandy 
shore,  where  you  may  pick  up  shells  and  sea- 
weed and  pebbles,  and  all  sorts  of  curious 
things,  and  build  castles  and  dig  moats,  filled 
with  real  water — all  this  was  unknown  to  the 
little  girl.  So  her  mamma,  going  to  spend  a 
day  with  a  dear  old  friend,  who  lived  at  a  love- 
ly sea-side  house,  thought  she  would  take  the 
child  with  her.  Also  "  the  big  child  ;"  as  her 
Sunny  sometimes  called  Lizzie,  who  enjoyed 
going  about  and  seeing  new  places  as  much  as 
the  little  child. 

They  started  directly  after  breakfast  one 
morning,  leaving  behind  them  the  parrot,  the 
dogs,  and  every  thing  except  Franky,  who  es- 
corted them  in-  the  carriage  through  four  or 
five  miles  of  ugly  town  streets,  where  all  the 
little  children  who  ran  about  (and  there  seemed 


50  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

no  end  of  them)  had  very  rough  bare  heads, 
and  very  dirty  bare  feet. 

Sunny  was  greatly  struck  by  them. 

"Look,  mamma,  that  little  boy  has  got  no 
shoes  and  stockings  on  !  Shall  Sunny  take  off 
hers  and  give  them  to  that  poor  little  boy  ?" 

And  she  was  proceeding  to  unbutton  her 
shoes,  when  her  mamma  explained  that — the 
boy  being  quite  a  big  boy — Sunny's  shoes 
would  certainly  not  fit  him,  and  if  they  did,  he 
would  probably  not  put  them  on  ;  since  in 
Scotland  little  boys  and  girls  often  go  bare- 
footed, and  like  it.  Had  not  papa  once  taken 
off  Sunny's  shoes  and  stockings,  and  let  her 
run  about  upon  the  soft  warm  grass  of  the 
lawn,  calling  her  "  his  little  Scotch  girl?" 

Sunny  accepted  the  reasoning,  but  still  look- 
ed perplexed  at  the  bare  feet.  They  were 
"  so  dirty,"  and  she  can  not  bear  to  have  the 
least  speck  of  dirt  on  feet  or  hands  or  clothes, 
or  anywhere  about  her.  Her  Auntie  Weirie, 
on  whose  lap  she  sat,  and  of  whom  she  had 
taken  entire  possession — children  always  do — 
was  very  much  amused. 

She  put  them  safely  into  the  train,  which 
soon  started — on  a  journey  which  mamma 
knew  well,  but  which  seemed  altogether  fresh 
when   seen   through   her  child's  eyes.     Such 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  51 

wonderful  things  for  Sunshine  to  look  at! 
Mountains — she  thoroughly  understood  mount- 
ains now ;  and  a  broad  river,  gradually  grow- 
ing broader  still,  until  it  was  almost  sea.  Ships 
too — some  with  sails,  and  some  with  chimneys 
smoking;  "a  puff-puff  on  the  water,"  Sunny 
called  them.  Every  now  and  then  there  was 
a  little  "puff-puff"  dragging  a  big  ship  after 
it,  and  going  so  fast,  fast — the  big  ship  looking 
as  proud  as  if  it  were  sailing  along  all  by  its 
own  self,  and  the  little  one  puffing  and  blowing 
as  busily  as  possible.  Sunny  watched  them 
with  much  curiosity,  and  then  started  a  bril- 
liant idea. 

"  That's  a  papa-boat  and  that's  a  baby -boat, 
and  the  baby -boat  pulls  the  papa-boat  along! 
So  funny !" 

And  she  crumpled  up  her  little  face,  and, 
tossing  up  her  head,  laughed  her  quite'  inde- 
scribable laugh,  which  makes  every  body  else 
laugh  too. 

There  were  various  other  curious  things  to 
be  seen  on  the  river,  especially  some  things 
which  mamma  told  her  were  called  "  buoys." 
These  of  course  she  took  to  mean  little  "  boys," 
and  looked  puzzled,  until  mamma  described 
them  as  "  big  red  thimbles,"  which  she  under- 
stood, and  noticed  each  one  with  great  interest 
ever  afterwards. 


52  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

But  it  would  be  vain  to  tell  all  the  things 
she  saw,  and  all  the  delight  she  took  in  them. 
Occasionally  her  little  face  grew  quite  grave, 
such  difficulty  had  she  in  understanding  the 
wonders  that  increased  more  and  more.  And 
when  at  last  the  journey  was  ended  and  the 
train,  stopped,  the  little  girl  was  rather  trou- 
bled, and  would  not  let  go  of  her  mamma  for 
a  single  minute. 

For  the  lovely  autumn  weather  of  }^esterday 
had  changed  into  an  equinoctial  gale.  Inland, 
one  did  not  so  much  perceive  it,  but  at  the  sea- 
side it  was  terrible.  People  living  on  that 
coast  will  long  remember  this  particular  day 
as  one  of  the  wildest  of  the  season,  or  for  sev- 
eral seasons.  The  wind  blew,  and  the  sea 
roared,  as  even  mamma,  who  knew  the  place 
well,  had  seldom  heard.  Instead  of  tiny  wave- 
let's running  after  Sunny's  little  feet,  as  had 
been  promised  her,  there  were  huge  "white 
horses"  rising  and  falling  in  the  middle  of  the 
river;  while  along  the  shore  the  waves  kept 
pouring  in,  and  dashing  themselves  in  and  out 
of  the  rocks,  with  force  enough  to  knock  any 
poor  little  girl  down.  Sunny  could  not  go* 
near  them,  and  the  wind  was  so  high  that  her 
hat  had  to  be  tied  on ;  and  her  cloak,  a  cape  of 
violet  wool,  which  Auntie  Weirie  had  rushed 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE^  HOLIDAY.  53 

to  fetch  at  the  last  minute,  in  case  of  rain,  was 
the  greatest  possible  blessing.  Still,  fasten  it 
as  Lizzie  would,  the  wind  blew  it  loose  again, 
and  tossed  her  curls  all  over  her  face  in  a  furi- 
ous fashion,  which  the  little  girl  could  not  un- 
derstand at  all. 

"  Sunny  don't  like  it,"  said  she,  pitifully ; 
and,  forgetful  of  all  the  promised  delights — 
shells,  and  pebbles,  and  castles  of  sand — took 
refuge  gladly  in-doors. 

However,  this  little  girl  is  of  such  a  happy 
nature  in  herself  that  she  quickly  grows  happy 
anywhere.  And  the  house  she  came  to  was 
such  a  beautiful  house,  with  a  conservatory 
full  of  flowers — she  is  so  fond  of  flowers — and 
a  large  hall  to  play  in  besides.  Her  merry 
voice  was  soon  heard  in  all  directions,  rather 
to  her  mamma's  distress,  as  the  dear  mistress 
of  the  house  was  not  well.  But  Sunny  com- 
prehends that  she  must  always  speak  in  a 
whisper  when  people  are  not  well;  so  she 
was  presently  quieted  down,  and  came  into 
the  dining-room  and  ate  her  dinner  by  mam- 
ma's side,. as  good  as  gold.  She  has  always 
dined  with  mamma  ever  since  she  could  sit  up 
in  a  chair,  so  she  behaves  quite  properly — al- 
most like  a  grown-up  person.  When  she  and 
mamma  are  alone,  they  converse  all  dinner- 


54  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

time;  but  when  there  are  other  people  pres- 
ent, she  is  told  that  "  little  girls  must  be  seen 
and  not  heard" — a  rule  which  she  observes  as 
far  as  she  can.  Not  altogether,  I  am  afraid, 
for  she  is  very  fond  of  talking. 

Still  she  was  good,  upon  the  whole,  and  en- 
joyed herself  much,  until  she  had  her  things 
put  on  again,  ready  to  start  once  more,  in  a 
kind  lady's  carriage  which  was  ordered  to  drive 
slowly  along  the  shore,  that  Sunny  might#see 
as  much  as  possible,  without  being  exposed  to 
the  wind  and  spray.  She  was  much  interest- 
ed, and  a  little  awed.  She  ceased  to  chatter, 
and  sat  looking  out  of  the  carriage  window  on 
the  curve  of  shore,  over  which  the  tide  came 
pouring  in  long  rollers,  and  sweeping  back 
again  in  wide  sheets  of  water  mixed  with 
white  foam. 

"Does  Sunny  like  the  waves?"  asked  the 
kind  lady,  who  has  a  sweet  way  with  children, 
and  is  very  good  to  them,  though  she  has  none 
of  her  own. 

"Yes,  Sunny  likes  them,"  said  the  little  girl, 
after  a  pause,  as  if  she  were  trying  to  make  up 
her  mind.  'Posing  (supposing)  Sunny  were 
to  go  and  swim  upon  them  ?  If — if  mamma 
would  come  too  ?" 

"But  wouldn't  Sunny  be  afraid  ?" 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  55 

"  No  " — very  decidedly  this  time.  "  Sunny 
would  be  quite  safe  if  mamma  came  too." 

The  lady  smiled  at  mamma ;  who  listened, 
scarcely  smiling,  and  did  not  say  a  word. 

It  was  a  terrible  day.  The  boats,  and  even 
big  ships,  were  tossing  about  like  cockle-shells 
on  the  gray  stormy  sea ;  and  the  mountains, 
hiding  themselves  in  mist,  at  last  altogether 
disappeared.  Then  the  rain  began  to  fall  in 
sheets,  as  it  often  does  fall  hereabouts — soak- 
ing, blinding  rain.  At  the  station  it  was  hard- 
ly possible  to  keep  one's  footing :  the  little 
girl,  if  she  had  not  been  in  her  Lizzie's  arms, 
would  certainly  have  been  blown  down  be- 
fore she  got  into  the  railway  carriage. 

Once  there — safely  sheltered  from  the  storm 
— she  did  not  mind  it  in  the  least.  She  jumped 
about,  and  played  endless  tricks,  to  the  great 
amusement  of  two  ladies — evidently  a  mamma 
and  a  grandmamma — who  compared  her  with 
their  own  little  people,  and  were  very  kind  to 
her — as  indeed  every  body  is  when  she  travels. 
Still,  even  they  might  have  got  'tired  out,  if 
Sunny  had  not  fortunately  grown  tired  herself, 
and  began  to  yawn  in  the  midst  of  her  fun  in 
a  droll  way. 

Then  mamma  slyly  produced  out  of  her 
pocket  the  child's  best  travelling  companion — 


56  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  little  Maymie's  apron.  Sunny  seized  it 
with  a  scream  of  delight,  cuddled  down,  suck- 
ing it,  in  her  mamma's  arms,  and  in  three  min- 
utes was  sound  asleep.  Nor  did  she  once 
wake  up  till  the  train  stopped,  and  Lizzie  car- 
ried her,  so  muffled  up  that  nobody  could  have 
told  whether  it  was  a  little  girl  or  a  brown 
paper  parcel,  to  the  carriage,  where  faithful 
Franky  waited  for  her,  and  had  waited  ever 
so  long. 

Fun  and  Franky  always  came  together. 
Sunny  shook  herself  wide  awake  at  once — 
fresh  as  a  rose,  and  lively  as  a  kitten.  Oh  the 
games  that  began,  and  lasted  all  the  four  miles 
that  the  carriage  drove  through  the  pelting 
rain  !  Never  was  a  big  boy  kinder  to  a  little 
girl ;  so  patient,  so  considerate  ;  letting  her  do 
any  thing  she  liked  with  him;  never  cross, 
and  never  rough — in  short,  a  thorough  gentle- 
man, as  all  boys  should  be  to  all  girls,  and  .all 
men  to  all  women,  whether  old  or  young. 
And  when  home  was  reached,  the  fire,  like  the 
welcome,  was  so  warm  and  bright  that  Sunny 
seemed  to  have  lost  all  memory  of  her  day  at 
the  sea-side — the  stormy  waves,  the  dreary 
shore,  the  wild  wind,  and  pouring  rain.  She 
was  such  a  contented  little  girl  that  she  never 
heeded  the  weather  outside.     But  her  mamma 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  '  57 

did  a  little,  and  thought  of  sailors  at  sea,  and  sol- 
diers fighting  abroad,  and  many  other  things. 

The  happy  visit  was  nowjlrawing  to  a  close. 
Perhaps  as  well,  lest,  as  some  people  foretold, 
Sunny  might  get  "quite  spoiled'7 — if  love 
spoils  any  body,  which  I  do  not  believe.  Cer- 
tainly this  child's  felicities  were  endless.  Ev- 
ery body  played  with  her ;  every  body  was 
kind  to  her.  Franky  and  Franky's  mamma, 
her  two  aunties,  the  parrot,  the  dogs  Bob  and 
Jack,  were  her  companions  by  turns.  There 
was  another  dog,  Wallace  by  name :  but  she 
did  not  play  with  him,  as  he  was  an  older  and 
graver  and  bigger  animal — much  bigger  than 
herself  indeed.  She  once  faintly  suggested  rid- 
ing him,  "as  if  he  was  a  pony,"  but  the  idea 
was  not  caught  at,  and  fell  to  the  ground,  as, 
doubtless,  Sunny  would  have  done  immediate- 
ly, had  she  carried  out  her  wish. 

Wallace,  though  big,  was  the  gentlest  dog 
imaginable.  He  was  a  black  retriever,  belong- 
ing to  Franky's  elder  brother,  a  grown-up 
young  gentleman  ;  and  his  devotion  to  his  mas- 
ter was  entire.  The  rest  of  the  family  he  just 
condescended  to  notice — but  Mr.  John  he  fol- 
lowed everywhere  with  a  quiet  persistency — 
the  more  touching  because  poor  Wallace  was 
nearly  blind.     He  had  lost  the  sight  of  one  eye 


58  LITTLE  SUNSHINE' 'S  HOLIDAY. 

by  an  accident,  and  could  see  out  of  the  other 
very  little.  They  knew  how  little,  by  the  near 
chance  he  had  oft^n  had  of  being  run  over  by 
other  carriages  in  following  theirs;  so  that  now 
Franky's  mamma  never  ventured  to  take  him 
out  with  her  at  all.  He  was  kept  away  from 
streets,  but  allowed  to  run  up  and  down  in  the 
country,  where  his  wonderful  sense  of  smell 
preserved  him  from  any  great  danger. 

This  sense  of  smell,  common  to  all  retrievers, 
seemed  to  have  been  doubled  by  Wallace's 
blindness.  He  could  track  his  master  for  miles 
and  miles,  and  find  any  thing  that  his  master 
had  touched.  Once,  just  to  try  him,  Mr.  John 
showed  nim  a  halfpenny,  and  then  hid  it  under 
a  tuft  of  grass,  and  walked  on  across  country 
for  half  a  mile  or  more.  Of  course  the  dog 
could  not  see  where  he  hid  it,  and  had  been 
galloping  about  in  all  directions  ever  since; 
3^et  when  his  master  said,  "  Wallace,  fetch  that 
halfpenny,"  showing  him  another  one,  Wallace 
instantly  turned  back,  smelling  cautiously  about 
for  twenty  yards  or  so;  then,  having  caught 
the  right  scent,  bounding  on  faster  and  faster, 
till  out  of  sight.  In  half  an  hour  more  he 
came  back,  and  ran  direct  to  his  master  with 
the  halfpenny  in  his  mouth. 

Since,  Mr.  John  had   sent  the  dog  for  his 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  59 

stick,  his  cap,  or  his  handkerchief,  often 
considerable  distances;  but  Wallace  always 
brought  the  thing  safe  back,  whatever  it  was, 
and  laid  it  at  his  master's  feet.  Mr.  John  was 
very  proud  of  Wallace,  and  very  fond  of  him. 

Sunny  was  not  old  enough  to  understand 
these  clevernesses  of  the  creature,  but  she  fully 
appreciated  one  trick  of  his.  He  would  hold 
a  bit  of  biscuit  or  sugar  on  his  nose,  quite 
steady,  for  several  minutes,  while  his  master 
said  "Trust,"  not  attempting  to  eat  it;  but 
when  Mr.  John  said  "  Paid  for !"  Wallace  gob- 
bled it  up  at  once.  This  he  did  several  times, 
to  Sunshine's  great  delight,  but  always  with  a 
sort  of  hesitation,  as  if  he  considered  it  £  little 
below  the  dignity  of  such  a  very  superior  ani- 
mal. And  the  minute  they  were  gone  he 
would  march  away  with  his  slow  blind  step, 
following  his  beloved  master. 

But  all  pleasures  come  to  an  end,  and  so  did 
these  of  Little  Sunshine's.  First,  Franky  went 
off  to  school,  and  she  missed  him  out  of  the 
house  very  much.  Then  one  day,  instead  of 
the  regular  morning  amusements,  she  had  to 
be  dressed  quickly,  to  eat  her  breakfast  twice 
as  fast  as  usual,  and  have  her  "  things  "  put  on 
all  in  a  hurry  "#to  go  by  the  puff-puff."  Her 
only  consolation  was  that  Dolly  should  have 


60  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HO  LID  AT. 

her  things  put  on  too — poor  Dolly  !  who,  from 
constant  combing,  was  growing  balder  and 
balder  every  day,  and  whose  clothes  were  slow- 
ly disappearing,  so  that  it  required  all  Lizzie's 
ingenuity  to  dress  her  decently  for  the  journey. 

This  done,  Sunny  took  her  in  her  arms,  and 
became  so  absorbed  in  her  as  hardly  to  notice 
the  affectionate  adieux  of  her  kind  friends, 
some  of  whom  went  with  her  to  the  station :  so 
she  scarcely  understood  that  it  was  good-bye. 
And  besides,  it  is  only  elder  folks  who  under- 
stand good-byes,  not  little  people.  All  the 
better,  too. 

Sunshine  was  delighted  to  be  in  a  puff-puff 
again* and  to  see  more  mountains.  She  watch- 
ed them  till  she  was  tired,  and  then  went  com- 
fortably to  sleep,  having  first  made  Dolly  com- 
fortable too,  lying  as  snug  in  her  arms  as  she 
did  in  her  mamma's.  But  she  and  Dolly  woke 
u'p  at  the  journey's  end  ;  when,  indeed,  Sunny 
became  so  energetic  and  lively,  that  seeing  her 
mamma  and  her  Lizzie  carrying  each  a  bag, 
she  insisted  on  carrying  something  too.  Seiz- 
ing upon  a  large  luncheon  basket  which  the 
pretty  lady  had  filled  with  no  end  of  good 
things,  she  actually  lifted  it,  and  bore  it,  totter- 
ing under  its  weight,  for  several  yards. 

"  See,  mamma,  Sunny  can  carry  it,"  said  she 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.        .        61 

in  triumph,  and  her  mamma  never  hinders  the 
little  girl  from  doing  every  thing  she  can  do ; 
wishing  to  make  her  a  useful  and  helpful  wom- 
an, who  will  never  ask  any  body  else  to  do  for 
her  what  she  can  do  for  h'erself. 

The  place  they  were  going  to  was  quite  dif- 
ferent from  that  they  had  left.  It  was  only 
lodgings — in  a  house  on  the  top  of  a  hill — but 
they  were  nice  lodgings,  and  it  was  a  bright 
breezy  hill,  sloping  down  to  a  beautiful  glen, 
through  which  ran  an  equally  beautiful  stream. 
Thence,  the  country  sloped  up  again,  through 
woods  and  pasture-lands,  to  a  dim  range  of 
mountains,  far  in  the  horizon.  A  very  pretty 
place  outside,  and  not  bad  inside,  only  the  little 
girl's  "  nursery  "  was  not  so  large  and  cheerful 
as  the  one  she  was  used  to,  and  she  missed  the 
full  house  and  the  merry  companions.  How- 
ever, being  told  that  papa  was  coming  to-mor- 
row, she  brightened  up,  and  informed  every 
body,  whether  interested  or  not  in  the  fact,  that 
"  Sunny  was  going  to  see  papa  jump  out  of 
a  pufT-puff,  to-morrow."  u  To-morrow"  being 
still  to  her  a  very  indefinite  thing ;  but  "  papa 
jumping  out  of  a  puff-puff"  has  long  been  one 
of  the  great  features  of  her  existence. 

Still,  to-day  she  would  have  been  rather  dull, 
if  when  she  went  out  into  the  garden  there  had 


62         .       LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

not  come  timidly  forward,  to  look  at  her,  a  lit- 
tle girl,  whose  name  mamma  inquired,  and 
found  that  it  was  Kelly. 

Here  a  word  or  two  ought  to  be  said  about 
Nelly,  for  she  turned  out  the  greatest  comfort 
to .  solitary  little  Sunny,  in  this  strange  place. 
Nelly  was  not  exactly  "  a  young  lady  ;"  indeed 
at  first  she  hung  back  in  'a  sweet  shy  way,  as 
doubtful  whether  Sunny's  mamma  would-  al- 
low the  child  to  play  with  her.  But  Nelly 
was  such  a  good  little  girl,  so  well  brought-up 
and  sensible,  though  only  ten  years  old,  that 
a  princess  might  have  had  her  for  a  playfel- 
low without  any  disadvantage.  And  as  soon 
as  mamma  felt  sure  that  Sunny  would  learn 
nothing  bad  from  her — which  is  the  only  real 
objection  to  playfellows — she  allowed  the  chil- 
dren to  be  together  as  much  as  ever  they 
liked. 

Nelly  called  Sunshine  "  a  bonnie  wee  lassie  " 
— words  which,  not  understanding  what  they 
meant,  had  already  offended  her  several  times 
since  she  came  to  Scotland. 

"  I'm  not  a  bonnie  wee  lassie — I'm  Sunny ; 
mamma's  little  Sunny,  I  am  !"  cried  she,  almost 
in  tears.  But  this  was  the  only  annoyance 
that  Nellie  ever  gave  her. 

Very  soon  the  two  children  were  sitting  to- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  63 

gether  in  a  most  charming  play-place — some 
tumble-down,  moss-grown  stone  steps  leading 
down  to  the  garden.  From  thence  you  could 
see  the  country  for  miles,  and  watch  the  rail- 
way trains  winding  along  like  big  serpents, 
with  long  feathers  of  steam  and  smoke  stream- 
ing from  their  heads  in  the  daylight,  and  great 
red  fiery  eyes  gleaming  through  the  dark. 

Nelly  had  several  stories  to  tell  about  them 
— how  once  a  train  caught  fire,  and  blazed  up 
— they  saw  the  blaze  from  these  steps— and 
very  dreadful  it  was  to  look  at;  also,  she 
wanted  to  know  if  Sunny  had  seen  the  river 
below  ;  such  a  beautiful  little  river,  only  some- 
times people  were  drowned  in  it — two  young 
ladies  who  were  bathing,  and  also  a  school- 
master, who  had  fallen  into  a  deep  hole,  which 
was  now  called  the  Dominie's  Hole. 

Nelly  spoke  broad  Scotch,  but  her  words 
were  well  chosen,  and  her  manner  very  simple 
and  gentle  and  sweet.  She  had  evidently 
been  carefully  educated,  as  almost  all  Scotch 
children  are.  She  went  to  school,  she  said, 
every  morning,  so  that  she  could  only  play 
with  Sunny  of  afternoons;  but  to-morrow  af- 
ternoon, if  the  lady  allowed — there  was  still 
that  pretty  polite  hesitation  at  any  thing  that 
looked  like  intrusiveness — she  would  take  Sun- 
E 


64  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ny  and  her  Lizzie  a  walk,  and  show  them  all 
that  was  to  be  seen. 

Sunny's  mamma  not  only  allowed  this — but 
was  glad  of  it.  Little  Nelly  seemed  a  rather 
grave  and  lonely  child.  She  had  no  brothers 
and  sisters,  she  said,  but  lived  with  her  aunts, 
who  were  evidently  careful  over  her.  She 
was  a  useful  little  body ;  went  many  a  mes- 
sage to  the  village,  and  did  various  things 
about  the  house,  as  a  girl  of  ten  can  often  do  ; 
but  she  was  always  neatly  dressed,  her  hands 
and  face  quite  clean,  and  her  pretty  brown 
hair,  the  chief  prettiness  she  had,  well  combed 
and  brushed.  And,  above  all,  she  never  said 
a  rude  or  ugly  word. 

It  was  curious  to  see  how  Little  Sunshine, 
who,  though  not  shy  or  repellent,  is  never  af- 
fectionate to  strangers,  and  always  declines  ca- 
resses, sa}ring  "she  only  kisses  papa  and  mam- 
ma," accepted  Nelly's  kiss  almost  immediate- 
ly, and  allowed  her  to  make  friends  at  once. 
Nay,  when  bed-time  arrived,  she  even  invited 
her  to  "  come  and  see  Sunny  in  her  bath,"  a 
compliment  she  only  pays  occasionally  to  her 
chief  favorites.  Soon  the  two  solitary  chil- 
dren were  frolicking  together,  and  the  gloomy 
little  nursery — made  up  extempore  out  of  a 
back  bedroom — ringing  with  their  laughter. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  65 

At  last,  fairly  tired  with  her  day's  doings, 
Sunny  condescended  to  go  to  sleep.  Her 
mamma  sat  up  for  an  hour  or  two  longer, 
writing  letters,  and  listening  to  the  child's  soft 
breathing  through  the  open  door,  to  the  equal- 
ly soft  sough  of  the  wind  outside,  and  the  faint 
murmur  of  the  stream,  deep  below  in  the  glen. 
Then  she  also  went  to  rest. 


66  LITTLE  S  UNSHINE '  S  HO  LID  A  Y. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NELLY  turned  out  more  and  more  of  an 
acquisition  every  day.  Pretty  as  this 
new  place  was,  Little  Sunshine  was  not  quite 
so  happy  as  the  week  before.  She  had  not  so 
many  things  to  amuse  her  out-of-doors;  and 
in-doors  she  was  kept  more  to  her  nursery  than 
she  approved  of  or  was  accustomed  to,  being 
in  her  own  home  mamma's  little  friend  and 
companion  all  day  long.  Now  mamma  was 
often  too  busy  to  attend  to  her,  and  had  to 
slip  away  and  hide  out  of  sight ;  for  whenever 
Sunny  caught  sight  of  her,  the  wail  of  "Mam- 
ma, mamma,  I  want  you  I"  was  really  sad  to 
hear. 

Besides,  she  had  another  tribulation.  In 
the  nearest  house,  a  short  distance  down  the 
lane,  lived  six  children  whom  she  knew  and 
was  fond  of,  and  had  come  to  Scotland  on  pur- 
pose to  play  with.  But  alas !  one  of  them 
caught  the  measles;  and,  Little  Sunshine  nev- 
er having  had  measles,  or  any  thing — in  fact, 
never  having  had  a  day's  illness  or  taken  a 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  67 

close  of  physic  in  her  life — the  elders  decided 
that  it  was  best  to  keep  the  little  folks  apart. 
Mamma  tried  hard  not  to  let  Sunny  find  out 
that  her  dear  playfellows  of  old  lived  so  near; 
but  one  day  these  sharp  little  ears  caught  their 
names,  and  from  that  time  she  'was  always 
wanting  to  go  and  play  with  them,  and  espe- 
cially with  their  "  little  baby." 

"I  want  to  see  that  little  baby,  mamma; 
may  Sunny  go  and  cuddle  the  dear  little 
baby?" 

But  it  was  the  baby  which  had  the  measles, 
and  some  of  the  rest  were  not  safe.  So  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  give  orders  to  each 
household  that  when  they  saw  one  another 
they  were  to  run  away  at  once ;  which  they 
most  honorably  did.  Still  it  was  hard  for  Sun- 
ny to  see  her  little  friends — whom  she  recog- 
nized at  once,  though  they  had  not  met  for 
eight  months — galloping  about,  as  merry  as 
possible,  playing  at  "  ponies,"  and  all  sorts  of 
things,  while  she  was  kept  close  to  her  Lizzie's 
side  and  not  allowed  to  go  near  them. 

Thus,  but  for  kind  little  Nelly,  the  child 
would  have  been  dull — at  least,  as  dull  as  such 
a  sunshiny  child* could  well  be — which  was  not 
saying  much.  If  she  grows  up  with  her  pres- 
ent capacity  for  enjoying  herself,  little  Sunny 


68  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HO  LID  A  Y. 

will  be  a  blessing  wherever  she  goes :  since 
happy-minded  people  always  make  others  hap- 
py. Still,  Nelly  was  welcome  company,  espe- 
cially of  afternoons. 

The  days  passed  on  very  much  alike.  Before 
breakfast,  Sunny  always  went  a  walk  with  her 
mamma,  holding  hands,  and  talking  like  two 
grown-up  persons — about  the  baa-lambs,  and 
calves,  and  cows,  which  they  met  on  their  way 
along  the  hill-side.  It  was  a  beautiful  hill-side, 
and  every  thing  looked  so  peaceful  in  the  early 
morning.  They  seldom  met  any  body  ;  except 
once,  when  they  were  spoken  to  by  a  funny- 
looking  man,  who  greatly  offended  Sunny  by 
asking  if  she  were  a  boy  or  girl,  but  added, 
"  It's  a  fine  bairn,  anyhow !"  "Then  he  went 
on  to  say  how  he  had  just  come  "  frae  putting 
John  M'Ewen  in  his  coffin,  ye  ken;  I'm  gaun 
to  Glasgow,  but  I'll  be  back  here  o'  Saturday. 
Ay,  ay,  I'll  be  Iback  o'  Saturday  ;"  as  if  the  as- 
surance must  be  the  greatest  satisfaction  to 
Sunny  and  her  mamma.  Mamma  thought  he 
must  have  been  drunk;  but  no,  he  was  only 
foolish — a  poor  half-witted  fellow,  whom  all  the 
neighborhood  knew,  and  were  good  to.  He 
had  some  queer  points.  Among  the  rest,  a 
most  astonishing  memory.  He  would  go  to 
church,  and  then  repeat  the  sermon,  or  long  bits 


LITTLE  SUXSHLYE'S  HOLIDAY.  69 

of  it,  off  by  heart,  to  the  first  person  he  met. 
Though  silly,  he  was  quite  capable  of  taking 
care  of  himself,  and  never  harmed  any  body. 
Every  body,  Nelly  said,  was  kind  to  "'daft 
John."  Still,  Sunny  did  not  fancy  him ;  and 
when  she  came  home  she  told  her  papa  a  long 
story  about  "that  ugly  man  !" 

She  had  great  games  with  her  papa  now 
and  then,  and  was  very  happy  whenever  she 
could  get  hold  of  him.  B.ut  her  great  compan- 
ion was  Nelly.  From  the  minute  Nelly  came 
out  of  school  till  seven  o'clock — Sunny 's  bed- 
time— they  were  inseparable ;  and  the  way  the 
big  girl  devoted  herself  to  the  little  one,  the 
patience  with  which  she  submitted  to  all  her 
vagaries,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  tyrannized 
over — never  once  failing  in  good-temper  and 
pleasantness — was  quite  pretty  to  see.  They 
played  in  the  garden  together;  they  went 
walks;  they  gathered  blackberries,- made  them 
into  jam  in  a  little  saucer  by  the  fire,  and  then 
ate  them  up.  With  a  wooden  spade,  and  a 
"luggie  "  to  fill  with  earth,  they  used  to  go  up 
the  hill-side,  or  down  to  the  glen,  sometimes 
disappearing  for  so  long  that  mamma  was  rath- 
er unhappy  in  her  mind,  only  Nelly  was  such 
a  cautious  little  person,  that  whenever  she  went 
she  was  sure  to  bring  her  two  charges  home  in 
safety. 


70  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

One  day,  Nelly  not  being  attainable,  mam- 
ma went  with  the  "big  child"  and  the  little 
one  to  the  Dominie's  Hole. 

It  was  a  real  long  walk,  especially  for  such 
tiny  feet,  that  eighteen  months  ago  could  bare- 
ly toddle  alone:  all  across  the  field  of  the  baa- 
lambs, which  always  interested  Sunny  so  much 
that  it; was- difficult  to  get  her  past  them:  she 
wanted  to  play  with  them  and  "  cuddle  "  them ; 
and  was  much  surprised  when  they  invariably 
ran  away.  However,  she  was  to-day  a  little 
consoled  by  mamma's  holding  her  upon  the 
top  of  the  stone  dike  at  the  end  of  the  field,  to 
watch  "  the  water  running  "  between  the  trees 
of  the  glen. 

In  Scotland  water  runs  as  I  think  it  never 
does  in  England — so  loudly  and  merrily,  so 
fast  and  bright.  Even  when  it  is  brown  water 
— as  when  coming  over  peat  it  often  is — there 
is  a  beauty  about  it  beyond  all  quiet  Southern 
streams.  Here,  however,  it  was  not  colored, 
but  clear  as  crystal  in  every  channel  of  the  lit- 
tle river,  and  it  was  divided  into  tiny  channels 
by  big  stones,  and  shallow,  pebbly  water- 
courses, and  overhanging  rocks  covered  with 
ferns,  and  heather,  and  mosses.  Beneath  these 
were  generally  round  pools,  where  the  river 
settled  dark  and  still,  though  so  clear  that  you 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  71 

could  easily  see  to  the  bottom,  which  looked 
only  two  or  three  feet  deep,  when  perhaps  it 
was  twelve  or  fifteen. 

The  Dominie's  Hole  was  one  of  these.  You 
descended  to  it  by  a  winding  path  through  the 
glen,  and  then  came  suddenly  out  upon  a  shel- 
tered nook  surrounded  by  rocks,  over  which 
the  honeysuckles  crept,  and  the  birk  or  mount- 
ain ash  grew  out  of  every  possible  cranny. 
Down  one  of  these  rocks  the  pent-up  stream 
poured  in  a  noisy  little  waterfall,  forming  below 
a  deep  bathing-pool,  cut  in  the  granite — I  think 
it  was  granite — like  a  basinx  with  smooth  sides 
and  edges.  Into  this  pool,  many  years  ago,  the 
poor  young  "Dominie,"  or  school-master,  had 
dived,  and  striking  his  head  against  the  bottom, 
had  been  stunned  and  drowned.  He  was 
found  floating  dead,  in  the  lonely  little  pool, 
which  ever  after  bore  his  name. 

A  rather  melancholy  place,  and  the  damp, 
sunless  chill  of  it  made  it  still  more  gloomy, 
pretty  as  it  was.  Little  Sunshine,  who  can  not 
bear  living  in  shadow,  shivered  involuntarily, 
and  whispered,  a  Mamma,  take  her  I"  as  she  al- 
ways does  in  any  doubtful  or  dangerous  cir- 
cumstances. So  mamma  was  obliged  to  carry 
her  across  several  yards  of  slippery  stones,  green 
with  moss,  that  she  might  look  up  to  the  water- 


.72  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

fall,  and  down  to  the  Dominie's  Hole.  She  did 
not  quite  like  it,  evidently,  but  was  not  actu- 
ally frightened — she  is  such  a  very  coura- 
geous person  whenever  she  is  in  her  mamma's 
arms. 

When  set  down  on  her  own  two  feet,  the 
case  was  different.  She  held  by  her  mamma's 
gown,  looked  at  the  noisy  tumbling  water  with 
anxious  eyes,  and  seemed  relieved  to  turn  her 
back  upon  it,  and  watch  the  half  dozen  merry 
rivulets  into  which  it  soon  divided,  as  they 
spread  themselves  in  and  out  over  the  shallow 
channel  of  the  stream.  What  charming  little 
baby  rivers  they  were!  Sunny  and  her- mam- 
ma could  have  played  among  them  for  hours, 
damming  them  up  with  pebbles,  jumping  over 
them,  floating  leaves  down  them,  and  listening 
to  their  ceaseless  singing,  and  their  dancing  too, 
with  bubbles  and  foam  gliding  on  their  surface 
like  little  fairy  boats,  till — pop !— all  suddenly 
vanished,  and  were  seen  no  more. 

It  was  such  a  thirsty  place,  too— until  mam- 
ma made  her  hand  into  a  cup  for  the  little  girl, 
and  then  the  little  girl  insisted  on  doing  the 
same  for  mamma,  which  did  not  answer  quite 
the  same  purpose,  being  so  small.  At  last 
mamma  took  out  of  her  pocket  a  letter  (it  was 
a  sad  letter,  with  a  black  edge,  but  the  child 


LITTLE  SUN  SHI WS  H  OLID  A  Y.  73 

did  not  know  that),  and  made  .its  envelope  into 
a  cup,  from  which  Sunny  drank  in  the  great- 
est delight.  Afterwards  she  administered  it  to 
her  mamma  and  her  Lizzie,  till  the  saturated 
paper  began  to  'yield — its  innocent  little  duty 
was  done.  However,  Sunny  insisted  on  filling 
it  again  herself,  and  was  greatly  startled  when 
the  bright  fierce-running  water  took  it  right 
out  of  her  hand,  whirled  it  along  for  a  yard  or 
too,  and  then  -sunk  it,  soaked  through,  in  the 
first  eddy  which  the  stream  reached. 

Poor  child !  she  looked  after  her  frail  treas- 
ure with  eyes  in  which  big  tears — and  Sunny's 
tears,  when  they  do  come,  are  so  very  big! — 
were  just  beginning  to  rise ;  and  her  rosy 
mouth  fell  at  the  corners,  with  that  pitiful  look 
mamma  knows  well,  though  it  is  not  often 
seen. 

"Never  mind,  my  darling;  mamma  will 
make  her  another  cup  out  of  the  next  letter 
she  has.  Or,  better  still,  she  will  find  her  own 
horn  cup,  that  has  been  to  Scotland  so  often, 
and  gone  about  for  weeks  in  mamma's  pocket, 
years  ago.  Now  Sunny  shall  have  it  to  drink 
out  of." 

"And  to  swim?  May  Sunny  have  it  to 
swim?" 

"  No,  dear,  because,  though  it  would  not  go 


74  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

down  to  the  bottom  like  the  other  cup,  it 
might  swim  right  away  arid  be  lost,  and  then 
mamma  would  be  so  sorry.  No,  Sunny  can't 
have  it  to  swim,  but  she  may  drink  out  of  it 
as  often  as  she  likes.  Shall  we  go  home  and 
look  for  it?" 

"Yes." 

The  exact  truth,  told  in  an  intelligible  and 
reasonable  way,  always  satisfies  this  reasonable 
child,  who  has  been  accustomed  to  have  every 
prohibition  explained  to  her,  so  far  as  was  pos- 
sible. Consequently,  the  sense  of  injustice, 
which  even  very  young  children  have,  when 
it  is  roused,  never  troubles  her.  She  knows 
mamma  will  give  her  every  thing  she  can,  and 
when  she  does  not,  it  is  simply  because  she 
can't,  and  she  tells  Sunny  why  she  can't,  when- 
ever Sunny  can  understand  it. 

So  they  climbed  contentedly  up  the  steep 
brae,  and  went  home. 

Nothing  else  happened  here — at  least  to  the 
child.  If  she  had  a  rather  dull  life,  it  was  a 
peaceful  one.  She  was  out-of-doors  a  great 
deal,  with  Lizzie  and  Nelly  of  afternoons,  with 
her  mamma  of  early  mornings.  Generally, 
each  day,  the  latter  contrived  to  get  a  quiet 
hour  or  two  ;  while  her  child  played  about  the 
garden  steps,  and  she  sat  reading  the  newspa- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  75 

per — the  terrible  newspaper !  When  Sunny 
has  grown  up  a  woman,  she  will  know  what  a 
year  this  year  1870  has  been,  and  understand 
how  many  a  time,  when  her  mamma  was  walk- 
ing along  with  her,  holding  her  little  hand,  and 
talking  about  all  the  pretty  things  they  saw, 
she  was  thinking  of  other  mothers  and  other 
children,  who,  instead  of  running  merrily  over 
sunshiny  hill-sides,  were  weeping  over  dead 
fathers,  or  dying  miserably  in  burnt  villages,  or 
starving  day  by  day  in  besieged  cities.  This 
horrible  war,  brought  about,  as  war  almost  al- 
ways is,  by  a  few  wicked,  ambitious  men,  made 
her  feel  half  frantic. 

One  day  especially — the  day  the  Prussians 
came  and  sat  down  before  Paris,  and  began 
the  siege — Little  Sunshine  was  playing  about, 
'  with  her  little  wooden  spade,  and  a  "luggie" 
that  her  papa  had  lately  bought  for  her;  filling 
it  with  pebbles,  and  then  digging  in  the  garden- 
beds,  with  all  her  small  might.  Her  mamma 
sat  on  the  garden  steps,  reading  the  newspaper. 
Sunny  did  not  approve  of  this  at  all. 

"Come  and  build  me  a  house.  Put  that 
down,"  pulling  at  the  newspaper,  "  and  build 
Sunny  a  house.  Please,  mamma,"  in  a  very 
gentle  tone — she  knows  in  a  minute  by  mam- 
ma's look  when  she  has  spoken  too  roughly — 


76  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

11  Please,  mamma,  come   and   build  Sunny  a. 
house." 

And  getting  no  answer,  she  looked  fixedly 
at  her  mamma — then  hugged  her  tight  round 
the  neck,  and  began  to  sob  for  sympathy. 
Poor  lamb !  She  had  evidently  thought  only 
little  girls  cried — not  mammas  at  all. 

The  days  ran  on  fast,  fast;  and  it  was  time 
for  another  move  and  another  change  in  Little 
Sunshine's  holiday.  Of  course  she  did  not 
understand  these  changes;  but  she  took  them 
cheerfully — she  was  the  very  best  of  little 
travellers.  The  repeated  packing  had  ceased 
to  be  an  interest  to  her ;  she  never  wanted  now 
to  jump  upon  mamma's  gowns,  and  sit  down 
on  her  bonnets,  by  way  of  being  useful ;  but 
still  the  prospect  of  going  in  a  puff-puff  was 
always  felicitous.  She  told  Nelly  all  about  it  ; 
and  how  she  was  afterwards  to  sail  in  a  boat 
with  Maurice  and  Maurice's  papa  (Maurice  was 
a  little  playfellow,  of  whom  more  presently), 
how  they  were  to  go  fishing  and  catch  big 
salmon. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  catch  a  big  salmon?" 
she  asked  Nelly,  not  recognizing  in  the  least 
that  she  was  parting  with  her,  probably  never 
to  meet  again  in  all  their  lives.  But  the  elder 
child  looked  sad  and  grave  during  the  whole 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  77 

of  that  day.  And  when  for  the  last  time  Nel- 
ly put  her  arms  round  Sunny,  and  kissed  her 
over  and  over  again,  Sunny  being  of  course 
just  as  merry  as  ever,  and  quite  unconscious 
that  they  were  bidding  one  another  good-bye, 
it  was  rather  hard  for  poor  little  Nelly. 

However,  the  child  did  not  forget  her  kind 
companion.  For  weeks  and  even  months  af- 
terwards, upon  hearing  the  least  allusion  to 
this  place,  Sunshine  would  wake  up  into  sud- 
den remembrance.  "  Where's  Nelly  ?  I  want 
to  see  Nelly — I  want  Nelly  to  come  and  play 
with  me;"  and  look  quite  disappointed  when 
told  that  Nelly  was  far  away,  and  couldn't 
come.  Which  was  perhaps  as  much  as  could 
be  expected  of  ttfree-years-old. 

Always  happy  in  the  present,  and  fright- 
ened at  nothing  so  long  as  she  was  "  close  by 
mamma,"  Little  Sunshine  took  her  next  jour- 
ney. On  the  way  she  staid  a  night  at  the  sea- 
side place  where  she  had  been  taken  before, 
and  this  time  the  weather  was  kin'd.  She 
wandered  with  her  Lizzie  on  the  beach,  and 
watched  the  waves  for  a  long  time;  then  she 
went  in-doors,  to  play  with  some  other  little 
children,  and  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  dear  old 
lady  who  had  been  ill,  when  she  was  here  last. 
Here  I  am  afraid,  she  did  not  behave  quite  as 


78  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

well  as  she  ought  to  have  done — being  tired 
and  sleepy;  nor  did  she  half  enough  value 
the  kind  little  presents  she  got ;  but  she  will 
some  day,,  and  understand  the  difference  be- 
tween eighty  years  of  age  and  three,  and  how 
precious  to  a  little  child  is  the  blessing  of  an 
old  woman. 

Sunny  went  to  bed  rather  weary  and  for- 
lorn, but  she  woke  up  next  morning  and  ran 
in  to  papa  and  mamma,  still  in  her  night- 
gown, with  her  little  bare  feet  pattering  along 
the  floor,  looking  as  bright  as  the  sunshine  it- 
self. Which  was  very  bright  that  day — a 
great  comfort,  as  there  was  a  ten  hours'  sea- 
voyage  before  the  little  woman,  who  had  nev- 
er been  on  board  a  steamboat,  and  never  trav- 
elled so  long  at  a  time  in  all  her  life.  She 
made  a  good  breakfast  to  start  with,  sitting  at 
table  with  a  lot  of  grown-up  people  whose 
faces  were  as  blithe  as  her  own,  and  behaving 
very  well,  considering.  Then  came  another 
good-bye,  of  course  unheeded  by  Little  Sun- 
shine, and  she  was  away  on  her  travels  once 
more. 

But  what  happened  to  her  next  must  be  put 
into  a  new  chapter. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  79 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  pier  Sunny  started  from  was  one  near 
the  mouth  of  a  large  estuary  or  firth, 
where  a  great  many  ships  of  all  sorts  are  con- 
stantly coming  and  going.  Sometimes  the 
firth  is  very  stormy,  as  on  the  first  day  when 
she  was  there,  but  to-day  it  was  smooth  as 
glass.  The  mountains  round  it  looked  half 
asleep  in  a  sunshiny  haze,  and  upon  the  river 
itself  was  not  a  single*  ripple.  The  steamers 
glided  up  and  down  in  the  distance  as  quietly 
as  swans  upon  a  lake.  You  could  just  catch 
the  faint  click-clack  of  their  paddle-wheels, 
and  see  the  long  trail  of  smoke  following  after 
them,  till  it  melted  into  nothing. 

"  Where's  Sunny's  steamboat?  Sunny  is 
going  a  sail  in  a  steamboat,"  chattered  the  lit- 
tle girl ;  who  catches  up  every  thing,  some- 
times even#the  longest  words  and  the  queerest 
phrases,  nobody  knows  how. 

Sunny's  steamboat  lay  alongside  the  pier. 
Its  engines  were  puffing  and  its  funnel  smok- 
ing; and  when  she  came  to  the  gangway  she 
looked  rather  frightened,  and  whispered,  "Mam- 
F     . 


80  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ma,  take  her,"  holding  out  those  pathetic  little 
arms. 

Mamma  took  her,  and  from  that  safe  emi- 
nence she  watched  every  thing :  the  men  loos- 
ing the  ropes  from  the  pier,  the  engines  mov- 
ing, the  sea-gulls  flying  about  in  little  flocks, 
almost  as  tame  as  pigeons.  She  was  much 
amused  by  these  sea-gulls,  which  always  fol- 
low the  steamers,  seeming  to  know  quite  well 
that  after  every  meal  on  board  they  are  sure 
to  get  something.  She  called  her  Lizzie  to 
look  at  them — her  Lizzie,  who  always  sym- 
pathizes with  her  in  every  thing.  Now  it  was 
not  quite  easy,  as  Lizzie. also  had  never  been 
on  board  a  steamer  before,  and  did  not  alto- 
gether relish  it.  «* 

'But  she,  too,  soon  grew  content  and  happy, 
for  it  was  a  beautiful  scene.  There  was  no  dis- 
tant view,  the  mountains  being  all  in  a  mist  of 
heat,  but  the  air  was  so  bright  and  mild,  with 
just  enough  saltness  in  it  to  be  refreshing,  that 
it  must  have  been  a  very  gloomy  person  who 
did  not  enjoy  the  da}^.  Little  Sunslrine  did  to 
the  utmost.  She  could  not  talk,  but  became 
absorbed  in  looking  about  her,  endless  wonder 
at  every  thing  she  saw  or  heard  shining  in  her 
blue  eyes.  Soon  she  heard  something  which 
brightened  them  still  more. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  81 

"Hark-,  mamnyi!  music  !  Sunny  hears  mu- 
sic." 

It  was  a  flute  played  on  the  lower  deck,  and 
played  exceedingly  well. 

Now  this  little  girl  has  a  keen  sense  of  mu- 
sic. Before  she  could  speak,  singing  always 
soothed  her;  and  she  has  long  been  in  the 
habit  of  commanding  extempore*  tunes  —  "a 
tune  that  Sunny  never  heard  before,"  some- 
times taking  her  turn  to  offer  one.  "  Mamma, 
shall  I  sing  you  a  song — a  song  you  never 
heard  before?"  (Which  certainly  mamma  nev- 
er had.)  She  distinguishes  tunes  at  once,  and 
is  very  critical  over  them.  "  Sunny  likes  it," 
or  "  Sunny  don't  like  it — it  isn't  pretty;"  and 
at  tko  sound  of  any  sort  of  music  she  pricks 
up  her  ears,  and  will  begin  to  cry  passionately 
if  not  taken  to  listen. 

This  flute  she  went  after  at  once.  It  was 
played  by  a  blind  man.  who  stood  leaning 
against  the  stairs  leading  to  the  higher,  deck, 
his  calm  sightless  face  turned  up  to  the  daz- 
zling sunshine.  It  could  not  hurt  him;  he 
seemed  even  to  enjoy  it.  There  was  nobody 
listening,  but  he  played  on  quite  unconscious- 
ly, one  Scotch  tune  after  another,  the  shrill, 
clear,  pure  notes  floating  far  over  the  sea. 
Sunny  crept  closer  and  closer — her  eyes  grow- 


82  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ing  larger  and  larger  with  intense  delight — 
till  the  man  stopped  playing.  Then  she  whis- 
pered, 

"  Mamma,  look  at  that  poor  man !  Somekin 
wrong  with  his  eyes." 

Sunny  has  been  taught  that  whenever  there 
is  " somekin  (something)  wrong"  with  any 
body — whe*i  they  are  blind,  or  lame,  or  ugly, 
or  queer-looking,  we  are  very  sorry  for  them, 
but  we  never  notice  it;  and  so,  though  she  has 
friends  who  can  not  run  about  after  her,  but 
walk  slowly  with  a  stick,  or  even  two  sticks — 
also  other  friends  who  only  feel  her  little  face, 
and  pass  their  hands  over  her  hair,  saying  how 
soft  it  is — mamma  is  never  afraid  of  her  mak- 
ing any  remark  that  could  wound  their  feelings. 

"Hush!  the  poor  man  can't  see,  but  we 
must  not  say  any  thing  about  it.  Come  with 
mamma,  and  we  will  give  him  a  penny."  All 
sorts  of  money  are  "pennies"  to  Sunny — 
brown  pennies,  white  pennies,  yellow  pennies  ; 
only  she  much  prefers  the  brown  pennies,  be- 
cause they  are  largest,  and  spin  the  best. 

So  she  and  mamma  went  up  together  to  the 
poor  blind  man,  Sunny  looking  hard  at  him ; 
and  he  was  not  pleasant  .to  look  at,  as  his 
blindness  seemed  to  have  been  caused  by 
small-pox.     But  the  little  girl  said  not  a  word, 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  83 

only  put  the  "white  "  penny  "  into  his  hand, 
and  went  away. 

I  wonder  whether  he  felt  the  touch  of  those 
baby  fingers,  softer  than  most.  Perhaps  ne 
did,  for  he  began  to  play  again,  the  "  Flowers 
of  the  Forest,"  with  a  pathos  that  even  mam- 
ma in  all  her  life  had  never  heard  excelled. 
The  familiar  mountains,  the  gleaming  river, 
the  "sunshiny"  child,  with  her  earnest  face, 
and  the  blind  man  playing  there,  in  notes  that- 
almost  spoke  the  well-known  words, 

"  Thy  frown  canna  fear  me,  thy  smile  canna  cheer  me, 
For  the  flowers  o'  the  forest  are  a'  wede  away." 

It  was  a  picture  not  easily  to  be  forgotten. 

Soon  the  steamer  stopped  at  another  pier, 
where  were  waiting  a  number  of  people,  ready 
to  embark  on  a  large  excursion-boat  which  all 
summer  long  goes  up  and  down  the  firth 
daily,  taking  hundreds  of  passengers,  and  giv- 
ing them  twelve  pleasant  Jiours  of  sea  air  and 
mountain  breezes.  She  was  called  the  "Iona," 
and  such  a  big  boat  as  she  was !  She  had  two 
decks,  with  a  saloon  below.  On  the  first  deck, 
the  passengers  sat  in  the  open  air,  high  up,  so 
as  to  see  all  the  views ;  the  second  was  under 
cover,  with  glass  sides,  so  that  they  could  still 
see  all  about ;    the  third,  lower  yet,  was  the 


8i  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

cabin,  where  they  dined.  There  was  a  ladies' 
cabin,  too,  where  a  good  many  babies  and  chil- 
dren, with  their  nurses  and  mammas,  general- 
ly staid  all  the  voyage.  Altogether,  a  most 
beautiful  boat,  with  plenty  of  play-places  for 
little  folk,  and  comfortable  nooks  for  elder 
ones ;  and  so  big,  too,  that  as  she  came  steam- 
ing down  the  river,  she  looked  as  if  she  could 
carry  a  townful  of  people.  Indeed,  this  sum- 
mer, when  nobody  has  travelled  abroad,  owing 
to  the  war,  the  "Iona"  had  carried  regularly 
several  hundreds  a  day. 

Sunny  gazed  with  some  amazement  from  the 
pier,  where  she  had  disembarked,  in  her  mam- 
ma's arms.  It  is  fortunate  for  Sunny  that  she 
has  a  rather  tall  mamma,  so  that  she  feels  safely 
elevated  above  any  crowd.  This  was  a  crowd 
such  as  she  had  never  been  in  before ;  it  jos- 
tled and  pushed  her,  and  she  had  to  hold  very 
tight  round  her  mamma's  neck ;  so  great  was 
the  confusion,  and  sq  difficult  the  passage  across 
the  gangway  to  the  deck  of  the  "  Iona."  Once 
there,  however,  she  was  as  safe  and  happy  as 
possible,  playing  all  sorts  of  merry  tricks,  and 
wandering  about  the  boat  in  all  directions, 
with  her  papa,  or  her  Lizzie,  or  two  young  la- 
dies who  came  with  her,  and  were  very  kind 
to  her.     But  after  a  while  these  quitted  the 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  85 

*  boat,  and  were  watched  climbing  up  a  mount- 
ain-side as  cleverly  as  if  they  had  been  young 
deer.  Sunny  would  have  liked  to  climb  a 
mountain  too,  and  mamma  promised  her  she 
should  some  day. 

She  was  now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  High- 
lands.    There  were  mountains  on  all  sides,  re- 

«  fleeted  everywhere  in  the  narrow  seas  through 
which  the  boat  glided,  ISTow  and  then  came 
houses  and  piers,  funny  little  "  baby  "  piers,  at 
which  the  "Iona"  stopped  and  took  up  or  set 
down  passengers,  when  "every  body  rushed  to 
the  side  to  look  on.  Sunny  rushed  likewise; 
she  became  so  interested  and  excited  in  watch- 
ing the  long  waves  the  boat  left  behind  her 
when  her  paddles  began  to  move  again,  that  her 
mamma  was  sometimes  frightened  out  of  her 
life  that  the  child  should  overbalance  herself, 
and  tumble  in.  Once  or  twice  poor  mamma 
spoke  so  sharply  that  Sunny,  utterly  unaccus- 
tomed to  this,  turned  round  in  mute  surprise. 
But  little  girls,  not  old  enough  to  understand 
danger,  do  not  know  what  terrors  mammas  go 
through  sometimes  for  their  sakes. 

It  was  rather  a  relief  when  Sunny  became 
very  hungry,  and  the  bag  of  biscuits  and  the 
bottle  of  milk  occupied  her  for  a  good  while. 
Then  she  turned  sleepy.     The  little  Maymie's 


86  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

apron  being  secretly  produced,  she,  laughing  a 
little,  began  to  suck  it,  under  cover  of  mamma's 
shawl.  Soon  she  went  to  sleep,  and  lay  for 
nearly  an  hour  in  perfect  peace,  her  eyes  shut 
upon  mountains,  sea,  and  sky ;  and  the  sun 
shining  softly  upon  her  little  face  and  her  gold 
curls,  that  nestled  close  into  mamma's  shoul- 
der.    Such  a  happy  child  ! 

Almost  cruel  it  seemed  to  wake  her  up,  but 
necessary ;  for  there  came  another  change. 
The  "Iona's"  voyage  was  done.  The  next 
stage  of  the  journey  was  through  a  canal,  where 
were  sights  to  be  seen  so  curious  that  papa  and 
mamma  were  as  much  interested  in  them  •  as 
the  little  girl,  who  was  growing  quite  an  old 
traveller  now.  She  woke  up,  rubbed  her  eyes, 
and,  not  crying  at  all,  was  carried  ashore,  and 
'into  the  middle  of  another  crowd.  There  was 
a  deal  of  talking  and  scrambling,  and  rushing 
about  with  bags  and  cloaks,  then  all  the  heav- 
ier luggage  was  put  into  two  gigantic  wagons, 
which  four  great  horses  walked  away  with,  and 
the  passengers  walked  in  a  long  string  of  twos 
and  threes,  each  after  the  others,  for  about  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile,  till  they  came  to  the  canal-side. 
There  lay  a  boat  so  big,  that  it  could  only  go 
forward  and  backward — I  am  sure  if  it  had 
wanted  to  turn  itself  round  it  could  not  possi- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.    '  87 

bl  y  have  done  so  !  On  board  of  it  all  the  peo- 
ple began  to  climb.  Very  funny  people  some 
of  them  were. 

There  was  one  big  tall  gentleman  in  a  dress 
Sunny  had  never  seen  before — a  cap  on  his 
head  with  a  feather  in  it,  a  bag  with  furry  tails 
dangling  from  his  waist,  and  a  petticoat  like  a 
little  girl.  He  had  also  rather  queer  .shoes  and 
stockings,  and  when  he  took  out  from  his  ankle, 
as  it  seemed,  a  shiny-handled  sort  of  knife,  and 
slipped  it  back  again,  Sunny  was  very  much 
surprised. 

"Mamma,"  she  whispered,  "what  does  that 
gentleman  keep  his  knife  in  his  stocking  for?" 
A  question  to  which  mamma  could  only  an- 
swer "  that  she  really  didn't  know.  Perhaps 
he  hadn't  got  a  pocket." 

"Sunny  will  give' him  her  pocket  —  her 
French  pinafore  with  pockets  in  it,  shall  she  ?" 

Mamma  thought  the  big  Highlander  might 
not  care  for  Sunny's  pretty  muslin  pinafore, 
with  embroidery  and  Valenciennes  lace,  sewn 
for  her  by  loving,  dainty  hands ;  and  as  the 
boat  now  moved  away,  and  he  was  seen  stalk- 
ing majestically  off  along  the  road,  there  was 
no  need  to  ask  him  the  question.     ] 

For  a  little  while  the  boat  glided  along  the 
smooth  canal,  so  close  to  either  side  that  you 


88  ■    LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

felt  as  if  you  could  almost  pluck  at  the  bushes, 
and  ferns,  and  trailing  brambles,  with  fast- 
ripening  berries,  that  hung  over  the  water.  On 
the  other  side  was  a  foot-road,  where,  a  little 
way  behind,  a  horse  was  dragging,  with  a  long 
rope,  a  small,  deeply-laden  canal-boat,  not  pret- 
ty like  this  one,  which  went  swiftly  and  merri- 
ly along  by  steam.  But  at  last  it  came  to  a 
stand,  in  front  of  two  huge  wooden  gates  which 
shut  the  canal  in,  and  through  every  crevice  of 
which  the  pent-in  water  kept  spouting  in  tiny 
cataracts. 

"  That's  the  first  of  the  locks,"  said  papa, 
who  had  seen  it  all  before,  and  took  his  little 
girl  to  the  end  of  the  boat  to  show  her  the 
wonderful  sight. 

She  was  not  old  enough  to  have  it  explained 
or  to  understand  what  a  fine  piece  of  engineer- 
ing work  this  canal  is.  It  cuts  across  country 
from  sea  to  sea,  and  the  land  not  being  level, 
but  rising  higher  in  the  middle,  and  as  you 
know  water  will  not  run  up  a-  hill-side  and 
down  again,  these  locks  had  to  be  made.  They 
are,  so  to  speak,  boxes  of  water  with  double 
gates  at  either  end.  The  boat  is  let  into  them, 
and  shut  in  ;  then  the  water  upon  which  it 
floats  is  gradually  raised  or  lowered  according 
as  may  be  necessary,  until  it  reaches  the  level 


LITTLE  S  TJNSHINE '  8  HOLIDA  Y.  89 

of  the  canal  beyond  the  second  gate,  which  is 
opened  and  the  boat  goes  in.  There  are  eight 
or  nine  of  these  locks  within  a  single  mile — a 
very  long  mile,  which  occupies  fully  an  hour. 
So  the  captain  told  his  passengers  they  might 
get  out  and  walk,  which  many  of  them  did. 
But  Sunshine,  her  papa  and  mamma,  were 
much  more  amused  in  watching  the  great  gates 
opening  and  shutting,  and  the  boat  rising  or 
falling  through  the  deep  sides  of  the  locks. 
Besides,  the  little  girl  called  it  "  a  bath,"  and 
expressed  a  strong  desire  to  jump  in  and  "swim 
like  a  fish,"  with  mamma  swimming  after  her ! 
So  mamma  thought  it  as  well  to  hold  her  fast 
by  her  clothes  the  whole  time. 

Especially  when  another  interest  came — 
three  or  four  little  Highland  girls  running 
alongside,  jabbering  gayly,  and  holding  out 
glasses  of  milk.  Her  own  bottle  being  nearly 
drained,  Sunny  begged  for  some ;  and  the  ex- 
traordinary difficulty  papa  had  in  stretching 
over  to  get  the  milk  without  spilling  it,  and 
return  the  empty  glass  without  breaking  it, 
was  a  piece  of  fun  more  delightful  than  even 
the  refreshing  draught.  "Again!"  she  said, 
and  wanted  the  performance  all  repeated  for 
her  private  amusement. 

She  had  now  resumed  her  old  tyranny  over 


90  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

her  papa,  whom  she  pursued  everywhere.  He 
could  not  find  a  single  cornjer  of  the  boat  in 
which  to  hide  and  read  his  newspaper  quiet- 
ly, without  hearing  the  cry,  "Where's  my 
papa?  Sunny  must  go  after  papa,"  and  there 
was  the  little  figure  clutching  at  his. legs, 
"Take  her  up  in  your  arms!  up  in  your  own 
arms  I"  To  which  the  victim,  not  unwillingly, 
consented,  and  carried  her  everywhere. 

Little  Sunshine's  next  great  diversion  was 
dinner.  It  did  not  happen  till  late  in  the  af- 
ternoon, when  she  had  gone  through,  cheerful- 
ly as  ever,  another  change  of  boat,  and  was 
steaming  away  through  the  open  sea,  which, 
however,  was  fortunately  calm  as  a  duck-pond, 
or  what  would  have  become  of  this  little  per- 
son ? 

Papa  questioned  very  much  whether  she 
was  not  far  too  little  a  person  to  dine  at  the 
cabin-table  with  all  the  other  grown-up  pas- 
sengers, but  mamma  answered  for  her  that  she 
would  behave  properly — she  always  did  when- 
ever she  promised.  For  Sunny  has  the  strong- 
est sense  of  keeping  a  promise.  Her  one  argu- 
ment when  wanting  a  thing,  an  argument  she 
knows  never  denied,  is,  "  Mamma,  you  prom- 
ised." And  her  shoe-maker,  who  once  neg- 
lected to  send  home  her  boots,  has  been  im- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  91 

mortalized  in  her  memory  as  "  Mr.  James  So- 
and-So,  who  broke  his  promise." 

So,  having  promised  to  be  good,  she  gravely 
took  her  papa's  hand  and  walked  with  him 
down  the  long  cabin  to.  her  place  at  the  table. 
There  she  sat,  quite  quiet,  and  very  proud  of 
her  position.  She  ate  little,  being  too  deeply 
occupied  in  observing  every  thing  around  her. 
And  she  talked  still  less,  only  whispering  mys- 
teriously to  her' mamma  once  or  twice, 

"  Sunny  would  like  a  potato,  with  butter  on 
it."  "Might  Sunny  have  one  little  biscuit — 
just  one?" 

But  she  troubled  nobody,  spilt  nothing,  not 
even  her  glass  of  water,  though  it  was  so  big 
that  with  both  her  fat  hands  she  could  scarcely 
hold  it;  and  said  "Thank  you"  politely  to  a 
gentleman  who  handed  her  a  piece  of  bread. 
In  short,  she  did  keep  her  promise,  conducting 
herself  throughout  the  meal  with  perfect  deco- 
rum. But  when  it  was  over,  I  think  she  was 
rather  glad. 

"Sunny  may  get  down  now?"  she  whis- 
pered ;  adding,  "  Sunny  was  quite  good,  she 
was."  For  the  little  woman  always  likes  to 
have  her  virtues  acknowledged. 

And  in  re-mounting  the  companion-ladder, 
rather  a  trial  for  her  small  legs,  she  looked  at 


93  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  steward,  who  was  taking  his  money,  and 
observed  to  him  in  a  confidential  tone,  "  Sunny 
has  had  a  good  dinner;  Sunny  liked  it" — at 
which  the  young  man  couldn't  help  laughing. 

But  every  body  laughs  at  Sunny,  or  w7ith 
her — she  has  such  an  endless  fund  of  enjoy- 
ment in  every  thing.  The  world  to  her  is  one 
perpetual  kaleidoscope  of  ever-changing  de- 
lights. 

Immediately  after  dinner  she  had  a  pleasure 
quite  new.  Playing  about  the  deck,  she  sud- 
denly stopped  and  listened. 

"Mamma,  hark!  there's  music.  May  Sun- 
ny go  after  the  music?"  And  her  little  feet 
began  to  dance  rather  than  walk,  as,  pulling 
her  mamma  by  the  hand,  she  "  went  after"  a 
German  band  that  was  plaj-ing  at  the  other 
end  of  the  vessel. 

Little  Sunshine  had  never  before  heard  a 
band,  and  this  was  of  wind  instruments,  played 
very  well,  as  most  German  musicians  can  play. 
The  music  seemed  to  quiver  all  through  her, 
down  to  her  very  toes.  And  when  the  dance- 
tune  stopped,  and  her  dancing  feet  likewise, 
and  the  band  struck  up  the  beautiful  "  Wacht 
am  Rhein" — the  Watch  on  the  Rhine — (oh! 
if  its  singers  had  only  stopped  there,  defending 
their  fatherland,  and  not  invaded  the  lands  of 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  93 

other  people !)  this  little  girl,  who  knew  noth- 
ing about  French  and  Prussians,  stood  absorbed 
•  in  solemn  delight.  Her  hands  were  folded  to- 
gether (a  trick  she  has),  her  face  grew  grave, 
and  a  soul  far  deeper  than  three  years  old 
looked  out  of  her  intent  eyes.  For  when  Sun- 
ny is  earnest,  she  is  very  earnest ;  and  when  she 
turns  furious,  half  a  dozen  tragedies  seem  writ- 
ten in  her  firm-set  mouth,  knitted  brow,  and 
•flashing  eyes. 

She  was  disposed  to  be  furious  for  a  minute, 
when  her  Lizzie  tried' to  get  her  away  from  the 
music.  But  her  mamma  let  her  stay,  so  she 
did  stay  close  to  the  musicians,  until  the  play- 
ing was  all  done. 

It  was  growiog  late  in  the  afternoon,  near 
her  usual  bed-time,  but  no  going  to  bed  was 
possible.  The  steamboat  kept  ploughing  on 
through  lonely  seas,  dotted  with  many  islands, 
larger  or  smaller,  with  high  mountains  on  every 
side,  some  of  them  sloping  down  almost  to  the 
water's  edge.  Here  and  there  was  a  solitary 
cottage  or  farm-house,  but  nothing  like  a  town 
or  village.  The  steamboat  seemed  to  have  the 
whole  world  to  itself — sea,  sky,  mountains — a 
magnificent  range  of  mountains  !  behind  which 
the  sun  set  in  such  splendor  that  papa  and 
mamma,  watching  it  together,  quite  forgot  for 


94  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  time  being  the  little  person  -who  was  not 
old  enough  to  care  for  sunsets. 

When  they  looked  up,  catching  the  sound  of 
her  laughter,  there  she  was,  in  a  state  of  the 
highest  enjoyment,  having  made  friends,  all  of 
her  own  accord,  with  two  gentlemen  on  board, 
who  played  with  her  and  petted  her  extreme- 
ly. One  of  them  had  just  taken  out  of  his 
pocket  a  wonderful  bird,  which  jumped  out  of 
a  box,  shook  itself,  warbled  a  most  beautiful' 
tune,  and  then  popped  down  in  the  box  again ; 
not  exactly  a  toy  for  a*  child,  as  only  about 
half  a  dozen  have  ever  been  made,  and  they 
generally  cost  about  a  hundred  guineas  apiece. 

Of  course  Sunny  was  delighted.  She  listen- 
ed intently  to  the  warble,  and  whenever  the 
bird  popped  down  and  hid  itself  again,  she  gave 
a  scream  of  ecstasy.  But  she  can  not  enjoy 
things  alone. 

"May  mamma  come  and  see  it?  Mamma 
would  like  to  see  it,  she  would !"  And,  run- 
ning back,  Sunny  drew  her  mamma,  with  al4 
her  little  might,  over  to  where  the  gentlemen 
were  sitting.    . 

They  were  very  polite  to  the  unknown  lady, 
and  went  over  the  performance  once  again  for 
her  benefit.  And  they  were  exceedingly  kind 
to  her  little  girl,  showing  a  patience  quite  won- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  95 

derful,  unless,  indeed,  they  had  little  girls  of 
their  own.  They  tried  pertinaciously  to  find 
out  Sunny's  name,  but  she  as  persistently  re- 
fused to  disclose  it — that  is,  any  thing  more  than 
her  Christian  name,  which  is  rather  a  peculiar 
one,  and  whith  she  alwa}7s  gives  with  great 
dignity  and  accuracy,  at  full  length.  (Which, 
should  they  really  have  little  girls  of  their  own, 
and.  should  they  buy  this  book  for  them  and 
read  it,  those  two  gentlemen  will  probably  re- 
member; nor  think  the  worse  of  themselves 
that  their  kindness  helped  to  while  away  what 
might  otherwise  have  been  rather  dreary,  the 
last  hour  of  the  voyage — a  very  long  voyage 
for  such  a  small  traveller.) 

It  was  ended  at  last.  The  appointed  pier,  a 
solitary  place  where  only  one  other  passenger 
was  landed,  stood  out  distinct  in  the  last  rays 
of  sunset.  Once  again  the  child  was  carried 
across  one  of  those  shaky  gangways — neither 
frightened  nor  cross,  and  quite  cheerful  and 
wide-awake  still.  Nay,  she  even  stopped  at 
the  pier-head,  her  attention  caught  bv-  some 
creatures  more  weary  than  herself. 

Half  a  dozen  forlorn  sheep,  their  legs  tied 

together,  and  their  heads  rolling  about,  with  the 

most  piteous  expression  in  their  open  eyes,  lay 

together,  waiting  to  be  put   on   board.     The 

G 


96  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

child  went  up  to  them  and  stroked  their 
faces. 

"Poor  little  baa-lambs,  don't  be  so  fright- 
ened ;  you  won't  be  frightened,  now  Sunny  has 
patted  you,"  said  she,  in  her  tenderest  voice. 
And  then,  after  having  walked  a  few  yards, 

"Sunny  must  go  back.  Please,  mamma, 
may  Sunny  go  back  to  say  good-bye  to  those 
poor  little  baa-lambs." 

But  the  baa-lambs  had  already  been  tossed 
on  board,  and  the  steamer  was  away  with  them 
into  the  dark.  * 

Into  the  dark^poor  little  Sunny  had  also  to 
go ;  a  drive  of  nine  miles  across  country, 
through  dusky  glens,  and  coming  out  by 
loch  sides,  and  under  the  shadow  of  great 
mountains,  above  whose  tops  the  stars  were 
shining.  Only  the  stars,  for  there  was  no 
moon,  and  no  lamps  to  the  carriage ;  and  the 
driver,  when  spoken  to,  explained  —  in  slow 
Highland  English,  and  in  a  mournful  manner, 
evidently  not  understanding  the  half  of  what 
was  said  to  him — that  there  were  several  miles 
farther  to  go,  and  several  hills  to  climb  yet ; 
and  that  the  horse  was  lame,  and  the  road  not 
as  safe  as  it  might  be.  A  prospect  which  made 
the  elders  of  the  party  not  perfectly  happy,  as 
may  well  be  imagined. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  07 

Bat  the  child  was  as  merry  as  possible, 
though  it  was  long  past  her  tea-time  and  she 
had  had  no  tea,  and  past  bed-time,  yet  there 
was  no  bed  to  go  to ;  she  kept  on  chattering 
till  it  was  quite  dark,  and  then  cuddled  down, 
making  "  a  baby  "  of  her  mamma's  hand — a 
favorite  amusement.  And  so  she  lay,  the  pic- 
ture of  peace,  until  the  carriage  stopped  at  the 
welcome  door,  and  there. stood  a  friendly  group 
with  two  little  boys  in  front  of  it.  After 
eleven  hours  of  travelling,  Little  Sunshine  had 
reached  a  shelter  at  last ! 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

SUNRISE  among  the  mountains.  Who 
that  has  ever  seen  it  can  forget  it?  Sun- 
ny's  mamma  never  could. ' 

Arriving  here  after  dark,  she  knew  no  more 
of  the  place  than  the  child  did.  But  the  first 
thing  she  did  on  waking  next  morning  was  to 
creep  past  the  sofa  where  Sunny  lay — oh,  so 
fast  asleep !  having  had  a  good  scream  over- 
night, as  was  natural  after  all  her  fatigues — 
steal  cautiously  to  the  window,  and  look  out. 

Such  a  sight !  At  the  foot  of  a  green  slope, 
or  sort  of  rough  lawn,  lay  the  little  loch  so 
often  spoken  of,  upon  which  Sunny  was  to  go 
a-flshing  and  catch  big  salmon,  with  Maurice's 
papa.  Eound  it  was  a  ring  of  mountains,  so 
high  that  they  seemed  to  shut  out  half  the  sk}^. 
These  were  reflected  in  the  water,  so  solidly 
and  with  such  a  sharp  clear  outline,  that  one 
could  hardly  believe  it  was  only  a  reflection. 
Above  their  summit  was  one  mass  of  deep  rose- 
color,  and  this  also  was  repeated  in  the  loch,  so 
that  you  could  not  tell  which  was  reddest,  the 


LITTLE  SUXSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  99 

water  or  the  sky.  Every  thing  was  perfectly 
still ;  not  a  ripple  moved,  not  a  leaf  stirred,  not 
a  bird  was  awake.  An  altogether  new  and 
masric  world. 

Sunny  was  too  much  of  a  baby  yet  to  care 
for  sunrise,  or  indeed  for  any  thing  just  now, 
except  a  good  long  sleep,  so  her  mamma  let  her 
sleep  her  fill ;  and  when  she  woke  at  last,  she 
was  as  bright  as  a  bird. 

Long  before  she  was  dressed,  she  heard  down 
stairs  the  voices  of  the  five  little  boys  who 
were  to  be  her  companions.  Their  papa  and 
mamma  having  no  objection  to  their  names 
being  told,  I  give  them,  for  they  were  five  very 
pretty  names :  Maurice,  Phil,  Eddie,  Franky, 
and  Austin  Thomas.  The  latter  being  the 
youngest,  though  by  no  means  the  smallest  or 
thinnest,  generally  had  his  name  in  full,  with 
variations,  such  as  Austin  Tummas,  or  Austin 
Tummacks.  Maurice,  too,  was  occasionally  call- 
ed Maurie — but  not  often,  being  the  eldest,  you 
see. 

He  was  seven,  very  small  for  his  age,  but 
with  a  face  almost  angelic  in  its  delicate  beau- 
ty. The  first  time  Sunny  saw  him,  a  few 
months  before,  she  had  seemed  quite  fasci- 
nated by  it,  put  her  two  hands  on  his  shoulders, 
and  finally  held  up  her  mouth  to  kiss  him — 


100  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

which  she  seldom  does  to  any  children,  rather 
preferring  "grown-ups,"  as  she  calls  them,  for 
playfellows.  She  had  talked  ever  since  of 
Maurice,  Maurice's  papa,  Maurice's  boat,  and  es- 
pecially of  Maurice's  "little  baby,"  the  only  sis- 
ter of  the  five  boys.  Yet  when  he  came  to  greet 
her  this  morning,  she  was  quite  shy,  and  would 
not  play  with  him  or  Eddie,  or  even  Frariky, 
who  was  nearer  her  own  age;  and  when  her 
mamma  lifted  up  Austin  Thomas,  younger 
than  herself,  but  much  bigger  in  every  wajr, 
and  petted  him  a  little,  this  poor  little  woman 
fell  into  great  despair. 

•"  Don't  kiss  him.  I  don't  want  you  to  kiss 
Austin  Thomas !"  she  cried,  and  the  passion 
which  can  rise  at  times  in  her  merry  blue  eyes 
rose  now.  She  clung  to  her  mamma,  almost 
sobbing. 

Of  course  this  was  not  right,  and,  as  I  said 
before,  the  little  girl  is  not  a  perfect  little  girl. 
She  is  naughty  at  times,  like  all  of  us.  Still, 
mamma  was  rather  sorry  for  her.  It  was  diffi- 
cult for  an  only  child,  accustomed  to  have  her 
mamma  all  to  herself,  to  tumble  suddenly  into 
such  a  crowd  of  boys,  and  see  that  mamma 
could  be  kind  to  and  fond  of  other  children 
besides  her  own,  as  all  mothers  ought  to  be, 
without  taking  away  one  atom  from  the  spe- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  101 

cial  mother's  love,  which,  no  little  people  need 
be  jealous  over.  Sunny  bore  the  trial  pretty 
well,  on  the  whole.  She  did  not  actually  cry 
— but  she  kept  fast  hold  of  her  mamma's 
gown,  and  watched  her  with  anxious  eyes 
whenever  she  spoke  to  any  other  child,  and 
especially  to  Austin  Thomas. 

The  boys  were  very  kind  to  her.  Maurice 
went  and  took  hold  of  her  hand,  trying  to  talk 
to  her  in  his  gentle  way ;  his  manners  were  as 
sweet  as  his  face.  Eddie,  who  was  stronger 
and  rougher,  and  more  boyish,  wanted  her  to 
go  down  with  him  to  the  pier — a  small  erec- 
tion of  stones  at  the  shallow  edge  of  the  loch, 
where  two  or  tHree  boats  always  lay  moored. 
Consequently  the  boys  kept  tumbling  in  and 
out  of  them,  and  in  and  out  of  the  water  too, 
very  often — all  day  long.  But  the  worst  they 
ever  could  get  was  a  good  wetting— ^except 
Austin  Thomas,  who  one  day  toddled  in  and 
slipped  down,  and,  being  very  fat,  could  not 
pull  himself  up  again ;  so  that,  shallow  as  the 
water  was,  he  was  very  near  being  drowned. 
But  Maurice  and  Eddie  were  almost  "water 
babies" — so  thoroughly  at  home  in  the  loch 
— and  Eddie,  though  under  six  years  old,  could 
already  handle  an  oar. 

"  I  can  low  "  (row — he  could  not  speak  plain 


102  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

yet).  "  I  once  lowed  grandpapa  all  across  the 
loch.     Shall  I  low  you  and  the  little  girl  ?" 

But  mamma  rather  hesitated  at  accepting 
the  kind  offer,  and  compromised  the  matter  by 
going  down  to  the  pier  with  Sunny  in  her 
arms,  to  watch  Eddie  "low"  —  about  three 
yards  out  and  back  again-r— in  a  carefully-moor- 
ed boat.  Sunny  immediately  wanted  to  go 
too,  and  mamma  promised  her  she  should,  af- 
ter breakfast,  when  papa  was  there  to  take 
care  of  her. 

So  the  little  party  went  back  to  the  raised 
terrace  in  front  of  the  house,  where  the  sun 
was  shining  so  bright,  and  where  Phil,  who 
was  in  delicate  health,  stood  looking  on  with 
his  pale,  quiet  face — sadly  quiet  and  grave  for 
such  a  child — and  Franky,  who  was  reserved 
and  shy,  stopped  a  moment  in  his  solitary  play- 
ing to  notice  the  new-comer,  but  did  not  offer 
to  go  near  her.  Austin  Thomas,  however, 
kept  pulling  at  her  with  his  stout  chubby  arms, 
but  whether  he  meant  caressing  or  punching, 
it  was  difficult  to  say.  Sunny  opposed  a  dig- 
nified resistance,  and  would  not  look  at  Austin 
Thomas  at  all.. 

"  Mamma,  I  want  to  stop  with  you.  May 
Sunny  stop  with  you?"  implored  she.  "  You 
said  Sunny  should  go  in  the  boat  with  you?" 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  103 

Mamma  always  does  what  she  says,  if  she 
possibly  can,  and  besides,  she  felt  a  sympathy 
for  her  lonely  child,  who  had  not  been  much 
used  to  play  with  other  children.  So  she  kept 
Sunny  beside  her  till  they  went  down  together 
— papa  too — for  their  first  row  on  the  loch. 

Such  a  splendid  day !  Warm  but  fresh — how 
could  it  help  being  fresh  in  that  pure  mountain 
air,  which  turned  Sunny's  cheeks  the  color  of 
opening  rose-buds,  and  made  even  papa  and 
mamma  feel  almost  as  young  as  she  ?  Big  peo- 
ple like  holidays  as  well  as  little  people,  and  it 
was  long  since  they  had  had  a  holiday.  This 
was  the  very  perfection  of  one,  when  every 
body  did  exactly  as  they  liked:  which  con- 
sisted chiefly  in  doing  nothing  from  morning 
till  night. 

Sunny  was  the  only  person  who  objected  to 
idleness.  She  must  always  be  doing  some- 
thing. 

"  I  want  to  catch  fishes,"  said  she,  after  hav- 
ing sat  quiet  by  mamma's  side  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat  for  about  three  minutes  and  a  half: 
certainly  not  longer,  though  it  was  the  first 
time  she  had  ever  been  in  a  boat  in  all  her  life, 
and  the  novelty  of  her  position  sufficed  to  so- 
ber her  for  just  that  length  of  time.  "  I  want 
to  catch  big  salmon  all  by  my  own  self." 


101  LITTLE  SUNSHINE ' 8  HOLIDA  Y. 

A  fishing-rod  bad,  just  as  a  matter  of  cere- 
mony, been  put  into  the  boat ;  but  as  papa  held 
the  two  oars,  and  mamma  the  child,  it  was 
handed  over  to  Lizzie,  who  sat  in  the  bow. 
However,  not  a  single  trout  offering  to  bite,  it 
was  laid  aside,  and  papa's  walking-stick  used 
instead.  This  was  shorter,  more  convenient, 
and  had  a  beautiful  hooked  handle  which  could 
catch  floating  leaves.  Leaves  were  much 
more  easily  caught  than  fishes,  and  did  quite 
as  well. 

The  little  girl  had  now  her  heart's  desire. 
She  was  in  a  boat  fishing. 

"  Sunny  has  caught  a  fish !  Such  a  big 
fish  !"  cried  she  in  her  shrillest  treble  of  delight, 
every  time  that  event  happened.  And  it  hap- 
pened so  often  that  the  bench  was  soon  quite 
"  soppy  "  with  wet  leaves.  Then  she  gave  up 
the  rod,  and  fished  with  her  hands,  mamma 
holding  her  as  tight  as  possible,  lest  she  should 
overbalance,  rand  be  turned  into  a  fish  herself. 
But  water  tuill  wet ;  and  mamma  could  not  save 
her  from  getting  her  poor  little  hands  all  blue 
and  cold,  and  her  sleeves  soaked  through.  She 
did  not  like  this ;  but  what  will  not  we  endure, 
even  at  two-and-three-quarters  old,  in  pursuit 
of  some  great  ambition  ?  It  was  not  till  her 
hands  were  numbed,  and  her  pinafore  dripping, 


LITTLE  SUXSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  105 

that  Sunny  desisted  from  her  fishing,  and  then 
only  because  her  attention  was  caught  by  some- 
thing else  even  more  attractive. 

"  What's  that,  mamma?     What's  that?" 
, "  Water-lilies." 

Papa,  busily  engaged  in  watching  his  little 
girl,  had  let  the  boat  drift  upon  a  shoal  of  them, 
which  covered  one  part  of  the  loch  like  a  float- 
ing island.  They  were  so  beautiful,  with  their 
leaves  lying  like  green  plates  flat  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  and  their  white  flowers  ris- 
ing up  here  and  there  like  ornamental  cups. 
No  wonder  the  child  was  delighted. 

"Sunny  wants  a  water-lily,"  said  she,  catch- 
ing the  word,  though  she  had  never  heard  it 
before.  "  May  Sunny  have  one,  two  water-lil- 
ies ?     Two  water-lilies !     Please,  mamma  ?" 

This  was  more  easily  promised  than  per- 
formed, for,  in  spite  of  papa's  skill,  the  boat  al- 
ways managed  to  glide  either  too  far  off,  or  too 
close  to,  or  right  on  the  top  of  the  prettiest 
flowers;  and  when  snatched  at,  they  always 
would  dive  down  under  water,  causing  the  boat 
to  lurch  after  them  in  a  way  particularly  un- 
pleasant. At  last,  out  of  about  a  dozen  unsuc- 
cessful attempts,  papa  captured  two  expanded 
flowers,  ^id  one  bud,  all  with  long  stalks. 
They  were  laid   along  the  seat  of  the  boat, 


106  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

which  had  not  capsized,  nor  had  any  body 
tumbled  out  of  it — a  thing  that  mamma  con- 
sidered rather  lucky,  upon  the  whole,  and  in- 
sisted on  rowing  away  out  of  the  region  of  wa- 
ter-lilies. 

"  Let  us  go  up  the  canal,  then,"  said  papa, 
whom  his  host  had  already  taken  there,  to 
show  him  a  very  curious  feature  of  the  loch. 

Leading  out  of  one  end  of  it,  and  communi- 
cating between  it  and  a  stream  that  fed  it  from 
the  neighboring  glen,  was  a  channel,  called 
"  the  canal."  Unlike  most  Highland  streams, 
it  was  as  still  as  a  canal;  only  it  was  natural, 
not  artificial.  Its  depth  was  so  great,  that  a 
stick  fifteen  feet  long  failed  to  find  the  bottom, 
which,  nevertheless,  from  the  exceeding  clear- 
ness of  the  water,  could  be  seen  quite  plain, 
with  the  fishes  swimming  about,  and  the  peb- 
bles, stones,  or  roots  of  trees  too  heavy  to  float, 
lying  as  they  had  lain,  undisturbed,  year  after 
year.  The  banks,  instead  of  shallowing  off, 
went  sheer  down,  as  deep  as  in  the  middle,  so 
that  you  could  paddle  close  under  the  trees 
that  fringed  them — gnarled  old  oaks,  queerly 
twisted  rowans  or  beeches,  and  nut-trees  with 
trunks  so  thick  and  branches  so  wide-spread- 
ing, that  the  great-great-grandfathers  qf  the  glen 
must  have  gone  nutting  there  generations  back.. 


LITTLE  S  UXSHIXE '  8  HO  LID  A  Y.  107 

•  Yet  this  year  they  were  as  fall  as  ever  of 
nuts,  the  gathering  of  which  frightened  mamma 
nearly  as  much  as  the  water-lilies.  For  papa, 
growing  quite  excited,  would  stand  up  in  the 
boat  and  pluck  at  the  branches,  and  would  not. 
see  that  nutting  on  dry  land,  and  nutting  in  a 
boat  over  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  of  water,  were 
two  very  different  things.  Even  the  little 
girl,  imitating  her  elders,  made  wild  snatches 
at  the  branches,  and  it  was  the  greatest  relief 
to  mamma's  mind  when  Sunny  turned  her  at- 
tention to  cracking  her  nuts,  which  her  sharp 
little  teeth  did  to  perfection. 

"  Shall  I  give  you  one,  mamma  ?  Papa 
too?"  And  she  administered  them  by  turns 
out  of  her  mouth,  which  if  not  the  politest  was 
the  most 'convenient  way.  At  last  she  began 
singing-a  song  to  herself,  "  Three  little  nuts  all 
together !  three  little  nuts  all  together  ! "  Look- 
ing into  the  little  girl's  shut  hands,  mamma 
found — what  she  in  all  her  long  life  had  nev- 
er found  but  once  before,  and  that  was  many, 
many  years  ago — a  triple  nut — a  "lucky"  nut; 
as  great  a  rarity  as  a  four-leaved  shamrock. 

"Oh,  what  a  prize!  will  Sunny  give  it  to 
mamma?"  (which  she  did  immediately).  "And 
mamma  will  put  it  carefully  by,  and  keep  it 
for  Sunny  till  she  is  grown  a  big  girl." 


108  LITTLE  S  UN  SHINE '  8  H  OLID  A  Y. 

"  Sunny  is  a  big  girl  now ;  Sunny  cracks 
nuts  for  papa  and  mamma." 

Nevertheless,  mamma  kept  the  triple  nut,  as 
she  remembered  her  own  mamma  keeping  the 
former  one,  when  she  herself  was  a  little  girl. 
When  Sunny  grows  a  woman,  she  will  find 
both. 

Besides  nuts,  there  were  here  and  there 
along  the  canal-side  long  trailing  brambles, 
with  such  huge  blackberries  on  them — black- 
berries that  seem  to  take  a  malicious  pleasure 
in  growing  where  nobody  can  get  at  them. 
Nobody  could  gather  them  except  out  of  a 
boat,  and  then  with  difficulty.  The  best  of 
them  had  after  all  to  be  left  to  the  birds. 

Oh,  what  a  place  this  canal  must  have  been 
for  birds  in  spring !  What  safe  nests  might 
be  built  in  these  overhanging  tree&!  what 
ceaseless  songs  sung  there  from  morning  till 
night!  Now,  being  September,  there  were 
almost  none.  Dead  silence  brooded  over 
the  sunshiny  crags  and  the  motionless  loch. 
When,  far  up  among  the  hills,  there  was  heard 
the  crack  of  a  gun — Maurice's  papa's  gun,  for 
it  could  of  course  be  no  other — the  sound, 
echoed  several  times  over,  was  quite  startling. 
What  had  been  shot — a  grouse,  a  snipe,  a  wild 
duck  ?     Perhaps  it  was  a  roe  deer  ?     Papa  was 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  109 

all  curiosity  ;  but  mamma,  who  dislikes  shoot- 
ing altogether,  either  of  animals  or  men,  and 
can  not  endure  the  sight  of  a  gun,  even  un- 
loaded, was  satisfied  with  hearing  it  at  a  dis- 
tance, and  counting  its  harmless  echoes  from 
mountain  to  mountain. 

What  mountains  they  were ! — standing  in  a 
circle,  gray,  bare,  silent,  with  their  peaks  far  up 
into  the  sky.  Some  had  been  climbed  by  the 
gentlemen  in  this  shooting  lodge,  or  by  Don- 
ald, the  keeper,  but  it  was  hard  work,  and  some 
had  never  been  climbed  at  all.  The  clouds 
and  mists  floated  over  them,  arid  sometimes, 
perhaps,  a  stray  grouse,  or  capercailzie,  or 
ptarmigan,  paid  them  a  visit,  but  that  was  all. 
They  were  too  steep  and  bare  even  for  the  roe 
deer.  Yet,  oh  !  how  grand  they  looked,  grand 
and  calm,  like  great  giants,  whom  nothing 
small  and  earthly  could  affect  at  all. 

The  mountains  were  too  big,  as  yet,  for  Lit- 
tle Sunshine.  Her  baby  eyes  did  not  take 
them  in.  She  saw  them,  of  course,  but  she  was 
evidently  much  more  interested  in  the  nuts 
overhead,  and  the  fishes  under  water.  And 
when  the  boat  reached  "The  Bower,"  she 
thought  it  more  amusing.still. 

"  The  Bower,"  so  called,  was  a  curious  place, 
where  the  canal  grew  so  narrow,  and  the  trees 


110  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

so  big,  that  the  overarching  boughs  met  in  the 
middle,  forming  a  natural  arbor  —  only  of 
water,  not  land — under  which  the  boat  swept 
for  a  good  many  yards.  You  had  to  stoop 
your  head  to  .  avoid  being  caught  by  the 
branches,  and  the  ferns  and  moss  on  either  bank 
grew  so  close  to  your  hand,  that  you  could 
snatch  at  them  as  you  swept  by — which  Lit- 
tle Sunshine  thought  the  greatest  fun  in  the 
world. 

"Mamma,  let  me  do  it.  Please,  let  Sunny 
do  it  her  own  self." 

To  do  a  thing  "  all  my  own  self"  is  always 
a  great  attraction  to  this  independent  little  per- 
son, and  her  mamma  allows  it  whenever  possi- 
ble. Still  there  are  some  things  which  mam- 
mas may  do,  and  little*  people  may  not,  and 
this  was  one  of  them.  It  was  obliged  to  be 
forbidden  as  dangerous,  and  Little  Sunshine 
clouded  over  almost  to  tears.  But  she  never 
worries  her  mamma  for  things,  well  aware  that 
"No"  means  no,  and  "Yes,"  yes;  and  that 
neither  are  subject  to  alteration.  And  the 
boat  being  speedily  rowed  out  of  temptation's 
way  into  the  open  loch  again,  she  soon  found 
another  amusement.  • 

On  the  locb,  besides  waterfowl,  such  as  wild 
ducks,  teal,  and  the  like,  lived   a   colony  of 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  ill 

geese.  They  had  once  been  tame  geese  belong- 
ing to  the  farm,  but  they  had  emigrated,  and 
turned  into  wild  geese,  making  their  nests 
wherever  they  liked,  and  bringing  up  their 
families  in  freedom  and  seclusion.  As  to. 
catching  them  like  ordinary  geese,  it  was  hope- 
less ;  whenever  wanted  for  the  table  they  had 
to  be  shot  like  game.  This  catastrophe  had 
not  happened  lately,  and  they  swam  merrily 
about — a  flock  of  nine  large  white,  lively,  in- 
dependent birds,  which  could  be  seen  far  off, 
sailing  about  like  a  fleet  of  ships  on  the  quiet 
waters  of  the  loch.  They  would  allow  you  to 
row  within  a  reasonable  distance  of  them,  just 
so  close  and  no  closer,  then  off  they  flew  in  a 
body,  with  a  great  screeching  and  flapping  of 
wings— geese,  even  wild  geese,  being  rather 
un wieldly  birds. 

Their  chief  haunt  was  a  tiny  island  just  at 
the  mouth  of  the  canal,  and  there  papa  rowed, 
just  to  have  a  look  at  them,  for  one  was  to 
be  shot  for  the  Michaelmas  dinner.  (It  never 
was,  by-the-bye,  and,  for  all  I  know,'  still  sails 
cheerfully  upon  its  native  loch.) 

"Oh,  the  ducks — the  ducks!"     (Sunny  calls 

all  water-birds  ducks.)     She  clapped  her  hands, 

and  away  they  flew,  right  over  her  head,  at 

once    frightening    and   delighting   her;    then 

H        '        " 


113  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

watched  them  longingly  until  they  dropped 
down  again,  and  settled  in  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  loch. 

"  Might  Sunny  go  after  them  ?  Might  Sunny 
•have  a  dear  little  duck  to  play  with  ?" 

The  hopelessness  of  which  desire  might  have 
made  her  turn  melancholy  again,  only  just 
then  appeared,  rowing  with  great  energy,  bris- 
tling with  fishing-rods,  and  crowded  with  little 
people  as  well  as  "grown-ups,"  the  big  boat. 
It  was  so  busy  that  it  hardly  condescended  to 
notice  the  little  pleasure-boat  with  only  idle 
people  sailing  about  in  the  sunshine,  and  doing 
nothing  more  useful  than  catching  water-lilies 
and  frightening  geese. 

Still  the  little  boat  greeted  the  large  one  with 
an  impertinent  hail  of  "  Ship  ahoy !  what  ship's 
that  ?"  and  took  in  a  cargo  of  small  boys,  who, 
as  it  was  past  one  o'clock,  were  wanted  home 
to  the  nursery  dinner.  And  papa  rowed  the 
whole  lot  of  them  back  to  the  pier,  where 
every  body  was  safely  landed.  Nobody  tum- 
bled in,  and  nobody  was  drowned — which 
mamma  thought,  on  the  whole,  was  a  great 
deal  to  be  thankful  for. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  113 


CHAPTER  .VII. 

LIFE  at  the  glen  went  on  every  day  alike, 
in  the  simplest,  happiest  fashion,  a  sort  of 
paradise  of  children,  as  in  truth  it  was.  Even 
the  elders  lived  like  children  ;  and  big  people 
and  little  people  were  together,  more  or  less, 
all  day  long.  A  thing  not  at  all  objectionable 
when  the  children  are  good  children,  as  these 
were. 

The  boys  were  noisy,  of  course,  and,  after 
the  first  hour  of  the  morning,  clean  faces,  hands, 
and  clothes  became  a  difficulty  quite  insur- 
mountable, in  which  their  mother  had  to  resign 
herself  to  fate ;  as  the  mamma  of  five  boys, 
running  about  wild  in  the  Highlands,  necessa- 
rily must.  But  these  were  good,  obedient, 
gentlemanly  little  fellows,  and,  had  it  been  pos- 
sible to  keep  them  clean  and  whole,  which  it 
wasn't,  very  pretty  little  fellows  too. 

Of  course  they  had  a  few  boyish  propensities, 
which  increased  the  difficulty.  Maurice,  for 
instance,  had  an  extraordinary  love  for  all 
creeping  things,  and   especially   worms.      On 


114  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  slightest  prepense  of  getting  bait  to  fish 
with,  "he  would  go  digging  for  them,  and  stuff 
them  into  his  pockets  ;  whence,  if  you  met  him, 
you  were  as  likely  as  not  to  see  one  or  two 
crawling  out.  If  you  remonstrated  he  looked 
unhappy,  for  Maurice  really  loved  his  worms. 
He  cherished  them  carefully,  and  did  not  in 
the  least  mind  their  crawling  oyer  his'  hands, 
his  dress,  or  his  plate.  Only  unfortunately 
other  people  did.  When  scolded,  he  put  his 
pets  meekly  aside,  but  always  returned  to 
them  with  the  same  love  as  ever.  Perhaps 
Maurice  may  turn  out  a  great  naturalist  some 
day. 

The  one  idea  of  Eddie's  life  was  boats.  He 
was  forever  at  the  little  pier  waiting  a  chance 
of  a  row,  and  always  wanting  to  "Jow  "  some- 
body, especially  with  "  two  oars,"  which  he 
handled  uncommonly  well  for  so  small  a  child. 
Fortunately  for  him,  though  not  for  his  papa 
and  the  salmon-fishers,  the  weather  was  dead 
calm,  so  that  it  was  like  paddling  on  a  duck- 
pond;  and  the  loch  being  siaallow  just  at  the 
pier,  except  a  few  good  wettings,  which  he 
seemed  to  mind  as  little  as  if  he  were  a  frog, 
bright,  brave,  adventurous  Eddie  came  to  no 
harm. 

Nor  Eranky,  who  imitated  him  admiringly 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  115 

whenever  he  could.  But  Franky,  who  was 
rather  a  reserved  little  man,  and  given  to  play- 
ing alone,  had,  besides  the  pier,  another  favorite 
play-place,  a  hollow  cut  out  in  the  rock  to  re- 
ceive the  burn  which  leaped  down  from  the 
hill-side  just  behind  the  house.  Being  close  to 
the  kitchen  door,  it  was  put  to  all  sorts  of  do- 
mestic uses,  being  generally  full  of  pots  and 
pans,  saucepans  and  kettles — not  the  most  ad- 
visable playthings,  but  Franky  found  them 
charming.  He  also  unluckily  found  out  some- 
thing else — that  the  hollow  basin  had  an  out- 
let, through  which  any  substance,  sent  swim- 
ming down  -the  swift  stream,  swam  away  beau- 
tifully for  several  yards,  and  then  disappeared 
underground.  And  the  other  end  of  this  sub- 
terraneous channel  being  in  the  loch,  of  course 
it  disappeared  forever.  .In.  this  way  there  van- 
ished mysteriously  all  sorts  of  things — cups 
and  saucers, -toy's,  pinafores,  hats;  which  fast 
Franky  was  discovered  in  the  act  of  making 
away  with,  watching  them  floating  off  with  ex- 
treme delight.  It  was  no  moral  crime,  and 
hardly  punishable,  but  highly  inconvenient. 
Sunny's  beloved  luggie,  which  had  been  car- 
ried about  with  her  for  weeks,  was  believed  to 
have  disappeared  in  this  way,  and,  as  it  could 
not  sink,  is  probably  now  drifting  somewhere 


116  LITTLE  SUNSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY. 

about  on  the  loch,  to  the  great  perplexity  of 
the  fishes. 

Ltitle  Phil,  alas !  was  too  delicate  to  be  mis- 
chievous. He  crept  about  in  the  sunshine,  not 
playing  with  any  body,  but  just  looking  on  at 
the  rest,  with  his  pale,  sweet,  pensive  face.  He 
was  very  patient  and  good,  and  he  suffered 
very  much.  One  day,  hearing  his  uncle  at 
family  prayers  pray  that  God  would  make 
him  better,  he  said  sadty,  "If  He  does,  I  wish 
He  would  make  haste  about  it."  "Which  was 
the  only  complaint  gentle  pathetic  little  Phil 
was  ever  heard  to  utter. 

Sunny  regarded  him  with  some  awe,  as  "the 
poor  little  boy  who  was  so  ill."  For  herself,  she 
has  never  yet  known  what  illness  is ;  but  she 
is  very  sympathetic  over  it  in  others.  Any 
body's  being  "  not  well,"  will  at  once  make 
her  tender  and  gentle ;  as  she  always  was  to 
Phtf.  He  in  his  turn  was  very  kind  to  her; 
lending  her  his  "  music,"  which  was  the  great- 
est favor  he  could  bestow  or  she  receive. 

This  "music"  was  a  box  of  infantile  instru- 
ments, one  for  each  boy — trumpet,  drum,  fife, 
etc.,  making  a  complete  band,  which  a  rash- 
minded  but  affectionate  aunt  had  sent  them, 
and  with  which  they  marched  about  all  day 
long,  to  their  own  great  delight  and  the  cor- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  117 

responding  despair  of  their  elders.  Phil,  who 
had  an  ear,  would  go  away  quietly*  with  his 
"music" — a  trumpet,  I  think  it  was — and  play 
it  all  by  himself.  But  the  others  simply 
marched  about  in  procession,  each  making 
the  biggest  noise  he  Qould,  and  watched  by 
Sunny  with  admiration  and  envy.  Now  and 
then,  out  of  great  benevolence,  one  of  the  boys 
would  lend  her  his  instrument,  and  nobody 
did  this  so  often  as  Phil,  though  of  them  all 
he  liked  playing  his  music  the  best.  The  pic- 
ture of  him  sitting  on  the  door-step,  with  his 
pale  ringers  wandering  over' his  instrument, 
and  his  sickly  face  looking  almost  contented 
as  he  listened  to  the  sound,  will  long  remain 
in  every  body's  mind.  Sunny  never  objected 
to  her  mamma's  carrying  him,  as  he  often  had 
to  be  carried ;  though  he  was  fully  six  years 
old.  He  was  scarcely  heavier  than  the  little 
girl  herself.  Austin  Thomas  would  have  made 
two  of  him. 

•  Austin's  chief  peculiarity  was  this  amiable 
fatness.  He  tumbled  about  like  a  roly-poly 
pudding,  amusing  every  body,  and  offending 
no  one  but  Little  Sunshine.  But  his  persist- 
ent pursuit  of  her  mamma,  whom  he  insisted 
on  calling  "Danmamma"  (grandmamma),  and 
following  whenever  he  saw  her,  was  more  than 


118  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  little  girl  could  bear,  and  she  used  to  knit 
her  brows  and  look  displeased.  However, 
mamma  never  took  any  notice,  knowing  what 
a  misery  to  itself  and  all  about  it  is  a  jealous 
child. 

Amidst  these  various  amusements  passed 
the  day.  It  began  at  8  A.M.,  when  Sunshine 
and  her  mamma  usually  appeared  on  the  ter- 
race in  front  of  the  house.  They  two  were 
"  early  birds,"  and  so  they  got  "  the  worm" — 
that  is,  a  charming  preliminary  breakfast  of 
milk,  bread  and  butter,  and  an  egg,  which  they 
usually  ate  on  the  door-step.  Sometimes  the 
rest,  who  had  had  their  porridge,  the  usual 
breakfast  of  Scotch  children — and  very  nice 
it  is,  too — gathered  round  for  a  share  ;  which 
it  was  pleasant  to  give  them,  for  they  waited 
so  quietly,  and  were  never  rough  or  rude. 

Nevertheless,  sometimes  difficulties  arose. 
The  tray  being  placed  on  the  gravel,  Maurice 
often  sat  beside  it,  and  his  wrorms  would  crawl 
out  of  his  pocket  and  on  to  the  bread  and 
butter.  Then  Eddie  now  and  then-  spilt  the 
milk,  and  Austin  Thomas  would  fill  the  salt- 
cellar with  sand  out  of  the  gravel-walk,  and 
stir  it  all  up  together  with  the  egg-spoon;  a 
piece  of  untidiness  which  Little  Sunshine  re- 
sented extremely. 


LITTLE  SUXSIIIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  119 

She  had  never  grown  reconciled  to  Austin 
Thomas.  In  spite  of  his  burly  good-nature, 
and  his  broad  beaming  countenance  (which 
earned  him  the  nickname  of  "  Cheshire,"  from 
his  supposed  likeness  to  the  Cheshire  Cat  in 
"Alice's  Adventures"),  she  refused  to  play 
with  him  ;  whenever  he  appeared,  her  eye  fol- 
lowed him  with  distrust  and  suspicion,  and 
when  he  said  "  Danmamma,"  she  would  con- 
tradict him  indignantly. 

"  It  isn't  grandmamma,  it's  my  mamma,  my 
own  mamma.  Go  away„  naughty  boy!"  If 
he  presumed  to  touch  the  said  mamma,  it  was 
always,  "Take  me  up  in  your  arms,  in  your 
own  arms  " — -so  as  to  prevent  all  possibility 
of  Austin  Thomas's  getting  there. 

But  one  unlucky  day  Austin  tumbled  down, 
and,  though  more  frightened  than*  hurt,  cried 
so  much  that,  his  own  mamma  being  away, 
Sunny's  mamma  took  him  and  comforted  him, 
soothing  him  on  her  shoulder  till  he  ceased 
sobbing.  This  was  more  than  human  nature 
could  bear.  Sunny  did  nothing  at  the  time, 
except  pull  frantically  at  her  mamma's  gown, 
but  shortly  afterwards  she  and  Austin  Thomas 
Were  found  by  themselves,  engaged  in  single 
combat  on  the  gravel  walk.  She  had  seized 
him  by  the  collar  of  his  frock,  and  was  kicking 


120  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

him  with  all  her  might,  while  he  on  his  part 
was  pommelling  at  her  with  both  his  little  fat 
fists,  like  an  infant  prize-fighter.  It  was  a 
pitched  battle,  pretty  equal  on  both  sides ;  and 
conducted  so  silently,  in  such  dead  earnest, 
that  it  would  have  been  quite  funny — if  it  had 
not  been  so  very  wrong. 

Of  course,  such  things  could  not  be  allowed, 
even  in  babies  under  three  years  old.  Sunny's 
mamma  ran  to  the  spot  and  separated  the  com- 
batants by  carrying  off  her  own  child  right 
away  into  the  house.  (  Sunny  was  so  astonished 
that  she  did  not  say  a  word.  And  when  she 
found  that  her  mamma  never  said  a  word  nei- 
ther, but  bore  her  along  in  total  silence,  she 
was  still  more  surprised.  Her  bewilderment 
was  at  its  height,  when,  shutting  the  bed-room 
door,  her  mamma  set  her  down,  and  gave 
her — not  a  whipping:  she  objects  to  whip- 
ping under  any  circumstances — but  the  se- 
verest scolding  the  child  had  ever  had  in  her 
life. 

When  I  say  "  scolding,"  I  mean  a  grave  sor- 
rowful rebuke,  showing  how  wicked  it  was  to 
kick  any  body,  and  how  it  grieved  mamma 
that  her  good  little  girl  should  be  so  exceed- 
ingly naughty.  Mamma  grieved  is  a  reproach 
under   which   Little   Sunny  breaks   down   at 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  121 

once.     Her  lips  began  to  quiver ;  she  hung 
her  head  sorrowfully. 

"  Sunny  had  better  go  into  the  cupboard," 
suo-srested  she. 

DO 

"Yes,  indeed,"  mamma  replied.  "I  think 
the  cupboard  is  the  only  place  for  such  a 
naughty  little  girl;  go  in  at  once." 

So  poor  Sunshine  crept  solemnly  into  a  large 
press  with  sliding  doors,  used  for  hanging  up 
■clothes,  and  there  remained  in  silence  and 
darkness  all  the  while  her  mamma  was  dress- 
ing to  go  out.  At  last  she  put  her  head 
through  the  opening. 

"  Sunny  quite  good  now,  mamma." 

"  Yery  well,"  said  .mamma,  keeping  with  dif- 
ficulty a  grave  countenance.  "  But  will  Sun- 
ny promise  never  to  kick  Austin  Thomas 
again  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  she  may  come  out  of  the  cupboard 
and  kiss  mamma." 

Which  she  did,  with  a  beaming  face,  as  if 
nothing  at  all  had  happened.  But  she  did  not 
forget  her  naughtiness.  Some  days  after,  she 
came  up,  and  confidentially  informed  her  mam- 
ma, as  if  it  were  an  act  of  great  virtue,  "  Mam- 
ma, Sunny  'membered  her  promise.  Sunny 
hasn't  kicked  the  little  boy  again."    • 


122  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

After  the  eight  o'clock  breakfast,  Sunny, 
her  mamma,  and  the  five  little  boys,  generally 
took  a  walk  together,  or  sat  telling  stories  in 
front  of  the  house,  till  the  ten  o'clock  breakfast 
of  the  elders.  That  over,  the  party  dispersed 
their  several  ways,  wandering  about  by  land 
or  water,  and  meeting  occasionally,  great  folks 
and  small,  in  boats,  or  by  hill-sides,  or  in-doors 
at  the  children's  one  o'clock  dinner  —  almost 
the  only  time,  till  night,  that  any  body  ever 
was  in-doors. 

Besides  most  beautiful  walks  for  the  elders, 
there  were,  close  by  the  house,  endless  play- 
places  for  the  children,  each  more  attractive 
than  the  other.  The  pier,  on  the  loch  was  the 
great  delight ;  but  there  was  about  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  house  a  burn  (in  fact,  burns 
were  always  tumbling  from  the  hill-side,  wher- 
ever you  went),  with  a  tiny  bridge  across  it, 
which  was  a  charming  spot  for  little  people. 
There  usually  assembled  a  whole  parliament 
of  ducks,  and  hens,  and  chickens,  quacking  and 
clucking  and  gobbling  together;  to  their  own 
great  content  and  that  of  the  children,  especial- 
ly the  younger  ones.  Thither  came  Austin 
Thomas  with  his  nurse  Grissel,  a  thorough 
Scotch  lassie;  and  Sunny  with  her  English 
Lizzie  ;  and  there  the  baby,  the  pet  of  all,  tiny 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  123 

"Miss  Mary,"  a  soft  dainty  cuddling  thing  of 
six  months  old,  used  to  be  brought  to  lie  and 
sleep  in  the  sunshine,  watched  by  Little  Sun- 
shine with  never-ending  interest.  She  would 
go  anywhere  with  "the  dear  little  baby."  The 
very  intonation  of  her  voice,  and  the  expres- 
sion of  her  eyes,  changed  as  she  looked  at  it — 
for  this  little  girl  is  passionately  fond  of  babies. 
Farther  down  the  mountain -road  was  anoth- 
er attractive  corner,  a  stone  dike,  covered  with 
innumerable  blackberries.  Though  gathered 
daily,  there  were  each  morning  more  to  gather, 
and  they  furnished  an  endless  feast  for  both 
nurses  and  children.  And  really  in  this  sharp 
mountain  air,  the  hungriness  of  both  big  and 
little  people  must  have  been  alarming.  How 
the  house-mother  ever  fed  her  household,  with 
the  only  butcher's  shop  ten  miles  off,  was  mi- 
raculous. For  very  often  the  usual  resort  of 
shooting-lodges  entirely  failed :  the  game  was 
scarce,  and  hardly  worth  shooting,  and  in  this 
weather  the  salmon  absolutely  refused  to  be 
caught.  Now  and  then  a  mournful-looking 
sheep  was  led  up  to  the  door,  and  offered  for 
sale  alive,  to  be  consumed  gradually  as  mutton. 
But  when  you  have  to  eat  an  animal  right 
through,  you  generally  get  a  little  tired  of  him 
at  last. 


124  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

The  food  that  never  failed,  and  nobody  ever 
wearied  of,  was  the  trout ;  large  dishes  of 
which  appeared,  and  disappeared,  every  morn- 
ing at  breakfast.  A  patient  guest,  who  could 
not  go  shooting,  used  to  sit  fishing  for  trout, 
hour  by  hour,  in  the  cheerfullest  manner; 
thankful  for  small  blessings  (of  a  pound  or 
a  pound  and  a  half  at  most),  and  always  hop- 
ing for  the  big  salmon  which  he  had  travelled 
three  hundred  miles  to  fish  for,  but  which 
never  came.  Each  day,  poor  gentleman  !  he 
watched  the  dazzlingly  bright  sky,  and  catching 
the  merest  shadow  of  a  cloud,  would  say  cour- 
ageously, "  It  looks  like  rain  !  Perhaps  the 
salmon  may  bite  to-morrow." 

Of  afternoons,  Sunny  and  her  mamma  gener- 
ally got  a  little  walk  and  talk  alone  together 
along  the  hill-side  road,  noticing  every  thing, 
and  especially  the  Highland  cattle,  who  went 
about  in  family  parties — the  big  bull,  a  splen- 
did animal,  black  or  tawny,  looking  very  fierce, 
but  really  offering  no  harm  to  any  body ;  half 
a  dozen  cows,  and  about  twice  that  number  of 
calves.  Such  funny  little  things' these  were! 
not  smooth,  like  English  calves,  but  with  quan- 
tities of  shaggy  hair  hanging  about  them,  and 
especially  over  their  eyes.  Papa  used  to  say 
that  his  little  girl,  with  her  incessant  activi- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  125 

ty,  and  her  yellow  curls  tossing  wildly  about 
on  her  forehead,  was  very  like  a  Highland 
calf. 

At  first,  Sunny  was  rather  afraid  of  these 
extraordinary  beasts,  so  different  from  Southern 
cattle ;  but  she  soon  got  used  to  them,  and  as 
even  the  big  bull  did  nothing  worse  than  look 
at  her,  and  pass  her  by,  she  would  stand  and 
watch  them  feeding  with  great  interest,  and  go 
as  close  to  them  as  ever  she  was  allowed. 
Once  she  even  begged  for  a  little  calf  to  play 
with,  but  as  it  ran  away  up  the  mountain-side 
as  active  as  a  deer,  this  was  not  practicable. 
And  on  the  whole  she  liked  the  ducks  and 
chickens  best. 

And  for  a  change  she  liked  to  walk  with 
mamma  round  the  old-fashioned  garden.  What 
a  beautiful  garden  it  was ! — shut  in  with  high 
walls,  and  sloping  southward  down  to  the  loch. 
No  doubt  many  a  Highland  dame,  genera- 
tions back,  had  taken  great  pleasure  in  it,  for 
its  fruit-trees  were  centuries  old,  and  the  box 
edging  of  its  straight  smooth  gravel  walks 
was  a  picture  in  itself.  Also  a  fuchsia  hedge, 
thick  with  crimson  blossoms,  which  this  little 
girl,  who  is  passionately  fond  of  flowers,  could 
never  pass  without  begging  for  "a  posie,  to 
stick  in  my  little  bosie,"  where  it  was  kissed 


126  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

and  "  loved  "  until,  generally  .soon  enough !  it 
got  broken  and  died. 

Equally  difficult  was  it  to  pass  the  apples 
which  lay  strewn  about  under  the  long  lines 
of  espaliers,  where  Maurice  and  Eddie  were 
often  seen  hovering  about  with  an  apple  in 
each  hand,  and  plenty  more  in  each  pocket. 
The  Highland  air  seemed  to  give  them  unlim- 
ited digestion,  but  Sunny's  mamma  had  occa- 
sionally to  say  to  her  little  girl  that  quiet 
denial,  which  caused  a  minute's  sobbing,  and 
then,  known  to  be  inevitable,  was  submitted 
to. 

The  child  found  it  hard  sometimes  that  lit- 
tle girls  might  not  do  all  that  little  boys  may. 
For  instance,  between  the  terrace  and  the  pier 
was  a  wooden  staircase  with  a  hand-rail ;  both 
rather  old  and  rickety.  About  this  hand-rail 
the  boys  were  forever  playing,  climbing  up  it 
and  sliding  down  it.  Sunny  wanted  to  do  the 
same,  and  one  vday  her  mamma  caught  her 
perched  astride  at  the  top,  and  preparing  to 
."slidder"  down  to  the  bottom,  in  imitation  of 
.Eddie,  who  was  urging  her  On  with  all  his 
might.  This  most  dangerous  proceeding  for 
little  girls  with  frocks  had  to  be  stopped  at 
once ;  mamma  explaining  the  reason,  and  in- 
sisting that  Sunny  must  promise  never  to  do 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  127 

it  again.  Poor  little  woman,  she  was  very 
sad;  but  she  did  promise,  and  moreover  she 
kept  her  word.  Several  times  mamma  saw 
her  stand  watching  the  boys  with  a  mournful 
countenance,  but  she  never  got  astride  on  the 
hand-rail  again.  Only  once — a  sudden  conso- 
lation occurred  to  her. 

"  Mamma,  'posing  Sunny  were  some  day  to 
grow  into  a  little  boy,  then  she  might  slide 
down  the  ladder?" 

"Certainly,  yes!"  answered  mamma  with 
great  gravity,  and  equal  sincerity.  In  the  mean 
time  she  perfectly  trusted  her  reliable  child, 
who  never  does  any  thing  behind  her  back  any 
more  than  before  her  face.  And  she  let  her 
clamber  about  as  much  as  was  practicable,  up 
and  down  rocks,  and  over  stone  dikes,  and  in 
and  out  of  burns,  since,  within  certain  limit- 
ations, little  girls  should  be  as  active  as  lit- 
tle boys.  And  by  degrees,  Sunny,  a  strong, 
healthy,  energetic  child,  began  to  follow  the 
boys  about  everywhere. 

There  was  a  byre  and  a  hay-house,  where 
the  children  were  very  fond  of  playing,  climb- 
ing up  a  ladder  and  crawling  along  the  roof  to 
the  ridge-tiles,  along  which  Eddie  would  drag 
himself  astraddle  from  end  to  end,  throwing 
Sunny  into  an  ecstasy  of  admiration.  To  climb 
I 


128  LITTLE  S  UNSHINE '  S  H  OLID  A  T. 

up  to  the  top  of  a  short  ladder  and  be  held 
there,  whence  she  could  watch  Eddie  crawl- 
like a  cat  from  end  to  end  of  the  byre,  and 
wait  till  he  slided  down  the  tiles  again,  was  a 
felicity  for  which  she  would  even  sacrifice  the 
company  of  "  the  dear  little  baby." 

But  after  all,  the  pier  was  the  great  resort. 
From  early  morning  till  dark,  two  or  three  of 
the  children  were  always  to  be  seen  there, 
paddling  in  the  shallows  like  ducks,  with  or 
without  shoes  and  stockings,  assisting  at  every 
embarkation  or  landing  of  the  elders,  and  gen- 
erally, by  force  of  entreaties,  getting  —  Eddie 
especially — "  a  low "  on  their  own  account 
several  times  a  day.  Even  Sunny  gradually 
came  to  find  such  fascination  in  the  water,  and 
in  Eddie's  company,  that  if  her  mamma  had 
not  kept  a  sharp  look-out  after  her,  and  given 
strict  orders  that,  without  herself,  Sunny  was 
never  under  any  pretext  to  go  on  the  loch 
at  all,  the  two  children,  both  utterly  fearless, 
would  certainly  have  been  discovered  sailing 
away  like  the  wise  men  of  Gotham  who  "  went 
to  sea  in  a  bowl."  Probably  with  the  same 
ending  to  their  career ;  that — 

"If  the  bowl  had  been' stronger, 
My  song  would  have  been  longer!" 

After  Little  Sunshine's  holiday  was  done,  mam- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  129 

ma,  thinking  over  the  countless  risks  run,  by 
her  own  child  and  these  other  children,  felt 
thankful  that  they  had  all  left  this  beautiful 
glen  alive. 


130  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE  days  sped  so  fast  with  these  happy- 
people,  children  and  "grown-ups,"  as 
Sunny  calls  them,  that  soon  it  was  already 
Sunday,  the  first  of  the  only  -two  Sundays 
they  had  to  spend  at  the  glen.  Shall  ,1  tell 
about  them  both  ? 

These  parents  considered  Sunday  the,  best 
day  in  all  the  week,  and  tried  to  make  it  so ; 
especially  -to  the  children,  whom,  in  order  to 
give  the  servants  rest,  they  then  took  princi- 
pally into  their  own  hands.  They  wished, 
that  when  the  little  folks  grew  up,  Sunday 
should  always  be  remembered  as  a  bright  day, 
a  cheerful  day,  a  day  spent  with  papa  and  mam- 
ma; when  nobody  had  any  work  to  do,  and 
every  body  was  merry,  and  happy,  and  good. 
Also  clean,  which  was  a  novelty  here.  Even 
the  elders  rather  enjoyed  putting  on  their  best 
clothes  with  the  certainty  of  not  getting  them 
wetted  in  fishing-boats,  or  torn  with  briers  and 
brambles  on  hill-sides.  Church  was  not  till 
twelve  at  noon,  so  most  of  the  party  went  a 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  131 

leisurely  morning  stroll,  and  Sunny'spapa  and 
mamma  decided  to  have  a  quiet  row  on  the 
loch,  in  a  clean  boat,  all  by  their  *two  selves. 
But,  as  it  happened,  their  little  girl,  taking  a 
walk  with  her  Lizzie,  espied  them  afar  off. 

Faintly  across  the  water  came  the  pitiful 
entreaty,  "Papa!  mamma!  Take  her.  Take 
her  with  you."  And  the  little  figure,  running 
as  fast  as  her  fat  legs  would  carry  her,  was 
seen  making  its  way,  with  Lizzie  running  after, 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  loch. 

What  heart  would  not  have  relented  ?  Papa 
rowed  back  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  took  her 
in,  her  face  quivering  with  delight,  though  the 
big  tears  were  still  rolling  down  her  cheeks. 
But  April  showers  do  not  dry  up  faster  than 
Sunny's  tears. 

No  fishing  to-day,  of  course.  Peacefully 
they  floated  down  the  loch,  which  seemed  to 
know  it  was  Sunday,  and  to  lie,  with  the  hills 
standing  round  it,  more  restful,  mo.re  sunshiny, 
more  beautiful  than  ever.  Not  a  creature  was 
stirring ;  even  the  cattle  that  always  clustered 
on  a  little  knoll  above  the  canal,  made  motion? 
less  pictures  of  themselves  against  the  sky,  as 
if  they  were  sitting  or  standing  for  their  por- 
traits, and  would  not  move  upon  any  account. 
Now  and.  then,  as  the  boat  passed,  a  bird  in 


132  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  bushe's  fluttered,  but  not  very  far  off,  and 
then  sat  on  a  bough  and  looked  at  it,  too  fear- 
less of  harm  to  fly  away.  Every  thing  was  so 
intensely  still,  so  unspeakably  beautiful,  that 
when  mamma,  sitting  in  the  stern,  with  her  arm 
fast  round  her  child,  began  to  sing  "Jerusalem 
the  Golden,"  and  afterwards  that  other  beauti- 
ful hymn,  "There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight," 
the  scene  around  appeared  like  an  earthly 
picture  of  that  Celestial  Land. 

They  rowed  homeward  just  in  time  to  dress 
for  church,  and  start,  leaving  the  little  girl  be- 
hind. She  was  to  follow  by-and-by  with  her 
Lizzie,  and  be  taken  charge  of  by  mamma 
while  Lizzie  went  to  the  English  service  in  the 
afternoon. 

This  was  the  morning  service,  and  in  Gaelic. 
With  an  English  prayer-book  it  was  just  pos- 
sible to  follow  it  and  guess  at'  it,  though  the 
words  were  unintelligible.  But  they  sounded 
very  sweet,. and  so  did  the  hymns;  and  the 
small  congregation  listened  as  gravely  and  rev- 
erently as  if  it  had  been  the  grandest  church 
in  the  world,  instead  of  a  tiny  room,  no  bigger 
than  an  ordinal  sitting-room,  with  a  commu- 
nion-table of  plain  deal,  and  a  few  rows  of  deal 
benches,  enough  to  seat  about  twenty  people, 
there  being  about  fifteen  present  to-day.    Some 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  133 

of  them  had  walked  several  miles,  as  they  did 
every  Sunday,  and  often,  their  good  clergyman 
said,  when  the  glen  was  knee-deep  in  snow. 

He  himself  spent  his  quiet  clays  among  them, 
winter  and  summer,  living  at  a  farm-house 
near,  and  scarcely  ever  quitting  his  charge.  A 
lonelier  life,  especially  in  winter-time,  it  was 
hardly  possible  to  imagine.  Yet  he  looked 
quite  contented,  and  so  did  the  little  congrega- 
tion, as  they  listened  to  the  short  Gaelic  sermon 
(which,  of  course,  was  incomprehensible  to  the 
strangers),  then  slowly  went  out  of  church  and 
stood  hanging  about  on  the  dike-side  in  the 
sunshine,  till  the  second  service  should  begin. 

Yery  soon,  a  few  more  groups  were  seen  ad- 
vancing towards  church.  There  was  Maurice, 
prayer-book  in  hand,  looking  so  good  and  gen- 
tle and  sweet,  almost  like  a  cherub  in  a  picture ; 
and  Eddie,  not  at  all  cherubic,  but  entirely  boy- 
ish, walking  sedately  beside  his  papa ;  Eddie 
clean  an.d  tidy,  as  if  he  had  never  torn  his 
clothes  or  dirtied  his  face  in  all  his  life.  Then 
came  the  children's  parents,  papa  and  mamma 
and  their  guests,  and  the  servants  of  the  house 
following.  While  far  behind,  holding  cautious- 
ly by  her  Lizzie's  hand,  and  rather  alarmed  at 
her  new  position,  was  a  certain  little  person, 
who,  as  soon   as  she  saw  her  own  papa  and 


134  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

mamma,  rushed  frantically  forward  to  meet 
them  with  a  crj  of  irrepressible  joy. 

"Sunny  wants  to  go  to  church!  Sunny 
would  like  to  go  to  church  with  the  little  boys, 
and  Lizzie  says  she  mustn't." 

Lizzie  was  quite  right,  mamma  explained ; 
afraid  that  so  small  a  child  might  only  inter- 
rupt the  worship,  which  she  could  not  possibly 
understand.  But  she  compromised  the  matter 
by  promising  that  Sunny  should  go  to  church 
as  soon  as  ever  she  was  old  enough,  and  to-day 
she  should  stay  with  mamma,  out  in  the  sun- 
shiny road,  and  hear  the  singing  from  outside. 

Staying  with  mamma  being  always  sufficient 
felicity,  she  consented  to  part  with  the  little 
boys,  and  they  passed  on  into  church. 

By  this  time  the  post,  which  always  came  in 
between  the  services  on  Sundays,  appeared,  and 
the  post-master,  who  was  also  school-master  and 
beadle  at  the  church — as  the  school,  the  church, 
and  the  post-office,  were  all  one  building — be- 
gan arranging  and  distributing  the  contents  of 
the  bag. 

Every  body  sat  down  by  the  roadside  and 
read  their  letters.  Those  who  had  no  letters 
opened  the  newspapers — those  cruel  newspa- 
pers, full  of  the  war.  It  was  dreadful  to  read 
them,  in  this  lovely  spot,  on  this  calm  Septem- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  135 

ber  Sunday,  with  the  good  pastor  and  his  inno- 
cent flock  preparing  to  begin  the  worship  of 
Him  who  commanded  "  Love  your  enemies ; 
bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them 
that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that  despite- 
fully  use  you  and  persecute  you." 

Oh,  what  a  mockery  "  church  "  seemed !  You 
little  children  can- never  understand  the  pain 
of  it;  but  you  will  when  you  are  grown  up. 
May  God  grant  that  in  your  time  you  may 
never  suffer  as  we  have  done,  but.  that  His 
mercy  may  then  have  brought  permanent 
peace;  beating  "swords  into  ploughshares,  and 
spears  into  pruning-hooks,"  for  ever  and  ever, 
throughout  the  world ! 

Sunny's  mamma  prayed  so  with  all  her  heart, 
when,  the  newspaper  laid  down,  she  sat  on  a 
stone  outside  the  church,  with  her  child  play- 
ing beside  her ;  far  enough  not  to  disturb  the 
congregation,  but  near  enough  to  catch  a  good 
deal  of  the  service,  which  was  the  English 
Episcopal  service  ;  there  being  few  Presbyteri- 
ans in  this  district  of  Scotland,  and  not  a  Pres- 
byterian church  within  several  miles. 

Presently  a  harmonium  began  to  sound,  and 
a  small  choir  of  voices,  singing  not  badly,  began 
the  Magnificat.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life 
that  the  little  girl  had  heard  choral  music — sev- 


136  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

eral  people  singing  all  together.  She  pricked 
up  her  ears  at  once,  with  the  expression  of  in- 
tense delight  that  all  kinds  of  music  bring 
into  her  little  face. 

"  Mamma,  is  that  church  ?  Is  that  my  papa 
singing?" 

Mamma  did  not  think  it  was,  but  it  might  be 
Maurice's  papa,  and  his  mamma,  and  Lizzie, 
and  several  other  people ;  Sunny  must  listen 
and  be  quite  quiet,  so  as  not  to  disturb  them. 

So  she  did,  good  little  girl !  sitting  as  mute 
as  a  mouse  all  the  while  the  music  lasted,  and 
when  it  ceased,  playing  about,  still  quietly ; 
building  pebble  mountains,  and  gathering  a 
few  withered  leaves  to  stick  on  the  top  of  them. 
For  she  and  her  mamma  were  sitting  on  the 
gravel  walk  of  the  school-master's  garden  ;  be- 
side a  row  of  flower-pots,  still  radiant  with  ge- 
raniums and  fuchsias.  They  were  so  close  to 
the  open  window  under  which  stood  the  pul- 
pit, that  mamma  was  able  to  hear  almost  every 
word  of  the  sermon — and  a  very  good  sermon 
it  was. 

When  it  ended,  the  friendly  little  congrega- 
tion shook  hands  and  talked  a  little  ;  then  sep- 
arated, half  going  up  and  the  other  half  down 
the  road.  The  minister  came  home  to  dinner, 
walking  between  Maurice  and  Eddie,  of  whom 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  137 

he  was  a  particular  friend.  They  always  look- 
ed forward  to  this  weekly  visit  of  his  as  one  of 
the  Sunday  enjoyments,  for  he  was  an  admira- 
ble hand  at  an  oar,  and  Eddie,  who  tyrannized 
over  him  in  the  most  affectionate  way,  was 
quite  sure  of  "  a  low  "  when  the  minister  was 
there. 

So,  after  dinner,  all  went  out  together,  par- 
ents and  children,  pastor  and  flock,  in  two 
boats,  and  rowed  peacefully  up  and  down  the 
loch,  which  had  fallen  into  the  cool  gray  shad- 
ow of  evening,  with  the  most  gorgeous  sunset- 
light  resting  on  the  mountains  opposite,  and 
gradually  fading  away,  higher  and  higher,  till 
the  topmost  peaks  alone  kept  the  glow.  But 
that  they  did  to  the  very  last;  like  a  good  man 
who,  living  continually  in  the  smile  of  God, 
lives  cheerfully  on  to  the  end. 

Sunny  and  her  mamma  watched  the  others, 
but  did  not  go  out,  it  being  near  the  child's 
bedtime;  and  unless  it  is  quite  unavoidable, 
nobody  ever  puts  Sunny  to  bed,  or  hears  her 
say  her  little  prayers,  except  her  own  mamma. 
She  went  to  sleep  quite  happily,  having  now 
almost  forgotten  to  ask  for  Tommy  Tinker,  or 
any  other  story.  The  continual  excitement  of 
her  life  here  left  her  so  sleepy  that  the  minute 
she  had  her  little  night-gown  on,  she  was  ready 


138  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

to  shut  her  eyes  and  go  off  into  what  mamma 
calls  "the  land  of  Nod." 

A^d  so  ended,  for  her,  the  first  Sunday  in 
the  glen,  which,  in  its  cheerful,  holy  peace,  was 
a  day  long  to  be  remembered.  But  the  little 
boys,  Maurice  and  Eddie,  who  did  not  go  to 
bed  so  early >  after  the  loch  grew  dark,  and  the 
rowing  was  all  done,  spent  a  good  long  even- 
ing in  the  drawing-room,  climbing  on  the  min- 
ister's knees,  and  talking  to  him  about  boats 
and  salmon,  and  all  sorts  of  curious  things  :  he 
was  so  very  kind  to  little  children.  And  after 
the  boys  were  gone  to  bed,  he  and  the  elder 
folk  gathered  round  the  not  unwelcome  fire, 
and  talked  too.  This  good  minister,  who  spent 
his  life  in  the  lonely  glen,  with  very  little  mon- 
ey— so  little  that  rich  Southern  people  would 
hardly  believe  an  educated  clergyman  could 
live  upon  it  at  all — and  almost  no  society,  ex- 
cept that  of  the  few  cottagers  and  farmers  scat- 
tered thinly  up  and  down,  yet  kept  his  heart 
up,  and  was  cheerful  and  kindly,  ready  to  help 
old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  and  never  com- 
plaining of  his  dull  life,  or  any  thing  else — this 
gentleman,  I  say,  was  a  pattern  to  both  great 
folk  and  small. 

The  one  only  subject  of  discontent  in  the 
house,  if  any  body  could  feel  discontent  in  such 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  139 

a  pleasant  place  and  amid  such  happy  circum- 
stances, was  the  continued  fine  weather.  While 
the  sky  remained  unclouded,  and  the  loch  as 
smooth  as  glass,  no  salmon  would  bite.  They 
kept  jumping  up  in  the  liveliest  and  most  pro- 
voking way;  sometimes  you  could  see  their 
heads  and  shoulders  clean  out  of  water,  and 
of  course  they  looked  bigger  than  any  salmon 
ever  seen  before.  Yainly  did  the  master  of 
the  house  and  his  guests  go  after  them  when- 
ever there  was  the  least  cloud  on  the  sky,  and 
coax  them  to  bite  with  the  most  fascinating 
flies  and  most  alluring  hooks :  they  refused  to 
take  the  slightest  notice  of  either.  Only  trout, 
and  they  not  big  ones,  ever  allowed  themselves 
to  be  caught. 

The  children  and  mammas,  delighting  in  the 
warm  sunshiny  weather,  did  not  grieve  much, 
but  the  gentlemen  became  quite  low  in  their 
spirits,  and  at  last,  for  their  sakes,  and  especial- 
ly for  the  sake  of  that  one  who  only  cared  for 
fishing,  and  had  come  so  far  to  fish,  the  whole 
household  began  to  watch  the  sky,  and  with 
great  self-sacrifice  to  long  for  a  day — a  whole 
day — of  good,  settled,  pelting  rain. 

And  on  the  Monday  following  this  bright 
Sunday,  it  seemed  likely.  The  morning  was 
rather  dull,  the  sunshiny  haze  which  hung  over 


140  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  mountains  melted  away,  and  they  stood 
out  sharp  and  dark  and  clear.  Towards  noon, 
the  sky  clouded  over  a  little — a  very  little ! 
Hopefully  the  elders  sat  down  to  their  four 
o'clock  dinner,  and  by  the  time  it  was  over  a 
joyful  cry  arose, . 

"  It's  raining  !  it's  raining  !" 

Every  body  started  up  in  the  greatest  de- 
light. "  Now  we  shall  have  a  chance  of  a  sal- 
mon !"  cried  the  gentlemen,  afraid  to  hope  too 
much.  Nevertheless,  they  hastily  put  on  their 
great-coats,  and  rushed  down  to  the  pier,  armed 
with  a  rod  apiece,  and  with  Donald  the  keep- 
er to  row  them;  because  if  they  did  hook  a 
salmon,  Eddie  explained,  they  would  want 
somebody  to  "low"  the  boat,  and  follow  the 
fish  wherever  he  went.  Eddie  looked  very 
unhappy  that  he  himself  had  not  this  duty,  of 
which  he  evidently  thought  he  was  capable. 
But  when  his  father  told  him  he  could  not  go, 
he  obeyed,  as  he  always  did.  He  was  very 
fond  of  his  father. 

The  three  boys,  Maurice,  Eddie,  and  Franky 
— Phil,  alas !  was  too  ill  to  be  much  excited, 
even  over  salmon-fishing — resigned  themselves 
to  fate,  and  made  the  best  of  things  by  climb- 
ing on  the  drawing-room  table,  which  stood  in 
front  of  the  window,  and  thence  watching  the 


BUNNY'S   MAMMA   TELLING   STORIES. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  141 

boat  as  it  moved  slowly  up  and  down  the  gray 
loch,  with  the  four  motionless  figures  sitting 
in  it — sitting  contentedly  soaking.  The  little 
boys,  Eddie  especially,  would  willingly  have 
sat  and  soaked* too,  if  allowed. 

At  length,  as  some  slight  consolation,  and 
to  prevent  Eddie's  dangling  his  legs  out  at  the 
open  window,  letting  in  the  wind  and  the  rain, 
and  running  imminent  risk  of  tumbling  out, 
twenty  feet  or  so,  down  to  the  terrace  below, 
Sunny's  mamma  brought  a  book  of  German 
pictures,  and  proposed  telling  stories  out  of 
them. 

They  were  very  funny  pictures,  and  have 
been  Little  Sunshine's  delight  'for  many 
months.  So  she,  as  the  owner,  displayed 
them  proudly  to  the  rest,  and  it  having  been 
arranged  with  some  difficulty  how  six  pairs 
of  eyes  could  look  over  the  same  book,  the 
party  arranged  themselves  thus:  Sunny's 
mamma  sat  on  the  hearth-rug,  with  her  own 
child  on  her  lap,  Austin  Thomas  on  one  side, 
and  Phil  on  the  other ;  while  Maurice,  Eddie, 
and  Franky  managed  as  well  as  they  could  to 
look  over  her  shoulders.  There  was  a  general 
sense  of  smothering  and  huddling  up,  like  a 
sparrow's  nest  when  the  young  ones  are  grow- 
ing a  little  too  big :  but  every  body  appeared 
K 


142  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

bappy.  Now  and  then,  Sunshine  knitted  her 
brows  fiercely,  as  she  can  knit  them  on  occa- 
sion, when  Austin  Thomas  came  crawling  too 
close  upon  her  mamma's  lap,  with  his  intru- 
sively affectionate  "  Danmamma,"  but  no  open 
quarrel  broke  out.  The  room  was  so  cosy 
and  bright  with  fire-light,  and  every  body  was 
so  comfortable,  that  they  had  almost  forgotten 
the  rain  outside,  also  the  salmon-fishing,  when 
the  door  suddenly  opened,  and  in  burst. the 
cook. 

Mary  was  a  kind,  warm-hearted  Highland 
woman,  always  ready  to  do  any  thing  for  any 
body,  and  particularly  devoted  to  the  children. 
Gaelic  was  'easier  to  her  than  English  always, 
but  now  she  was  so  excited  that  she  could 
hardly  get  out  her  words. 

"  Master's  hooked  a  salmon  !  He's  been  cry- 
ing" (calling)  "on  Neil  to  get  out  another  boat 
and  come  to  him.  It  must  be'  a  very  big  sal- 
mon, for  he  is  playing  him  up  and  down  the 
loch.  They've  been  at  it  these  ten  minutes 
and  more. 

Mary's  excitement  affected  the  mistress,  who 
laid  down  her  baby.  "  Where  are  they  ?  Has 
any  body  seen  them  ?" 

"  Any  body,  ma'am  ?  Why  every  body's 
down  at  the  shore  looking  at  them.     The  min- 


LITTLE  S  UNSHINE  •  8  HO  LID  A  7".  143 

ister  too  ;  he  was  'passing,  and  stopped  to 
see." 

As  a  matter  of  course,  cook  evidently 
thought.  Even  a  minister  could  not  pass  by 
such  an  interesting  sight.  Nor  did  she  seem 
in  the  least  surprised  when  the  mistress  sent 
for  her  water-proof  cloak,  and,  drawing  the 
hood  over  her  head,  went  deliberately  out 
into  the  pelting  rain,  Maurice  and  Franky  fol- 
lowing. As  for  Eddie,  at  the  first  mention  of 
salmon,  he  had  been  off  like  a  shot,  and  was 
now  seen  standing  on  the  very  edge  of  the  pier, 
gesticulating  with  all  his  might  for  somebody 
to  take  him  into  a  boat.     Alas !  in  vain. 

Never  was  there  such  an  all-absorbing  sal- 
mon. As  Mary  had  said,  the  whole  house- 
hold was  out  watching  him  and  his  proceed- 
ings. The  baby,  Austin  Thomas,  Sunny,  and 
Sunny's  mamma,  were  left  alone,  to  take  care 
of  one  another. 

These  settled  down  again  in  front  of  the 
fire,  and  Sunny,  who  had  been  a  little  bewil- 
dered by  the  confusion,  recovered  herself,  and, 
not  at  all  alive  to  the  importance  of  salmon- 
fishing,  resumed  her  entreating  whisper. 

"  'Bout  Grerman  pictures,  mamma ;  tell  me 
'bout  German  pictures." 

And  she  seemed  quite  glad  to  go  bacjc  to 


144  LITTLE  SUNSHINE ' S  HOLIDA  Y. 

her  old  ways ;  for  this  little  girl  likes  nothing 
better  than  ^snuggling  into  her  mamma's  lap, 
on  the  hearth  rug,  and  being  told  about  Ger- 
man pictures. 

They  came  to  her  all  the  way  from  Germany 
as  a  present  from  a  kind  German  friend,  and 
some  of  them  are  very  funny.  They  make 
regular  stories,  a  story  on  each  page.  One  is 
about  a  little  greedy  boy,  so  like  a  pig,  that  at 
last  being  caught  with  a  sweetmeat  by- an  old 
witch,  she  turns  him  into  a  pig  in  reality.  He 
is  put  into  a  sty,  and  just  about  to  be  killed, 
when  his  sister  comes  in  to  save  him  with  a 
fairy  rose  in  her  hand ;  the  witch  falls  back, 
stuck  through  with  her  own  carving-knife, 
and  poor  piggy-wiggy,  touched  by  the  magic 
rose,  turns  into  a  little  boy  again.  Then  there 
is  another  page,  '"bout  effelants,"  as  Sunny 
calls  them — a  papa  elephant  and  a  baby  ele- 
phant taking  a  walk  together.  They  come 
across  the  first  Indian  railway,  and  the  papa 
elephant,  who  has  never  seen  a  telegraph  wire 
before,  is  very  angry  at  it  and  pulls  it  down 
with  his  trunk.  Then  there  comes  whizzing 
past  a  railway  -  train,  which  makes  him  still 
more  indignant,  as  he  does  not  understand  it 
at  all.  He  talks  very  seriously  on  the  subject 
to  his  little  son,  who  listens  with  a  respectful 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  ,    145 

air.  Then,  determined  to  put  an  end  to  such 
nuisances,  this  wise  papa  elephant  marches 
right  in  front  of  the  next  train  that  passes. 
He  does  not  stop  it,  of  course,  but  it  stops  him, 
cutting  him  up  into  little  pieces,  and  throwing 
him  on  either  side  the  line.  At  which  the  little 
elephant  is  so  frightened  that  you  see  him  tak- 
ing to  his  heels,  very  solid  heels  too,  and  run- 
ning right  away. 

Sunny  heard  this  story*  for  the  hundredth 
time,  delighted  as  ever,  and  then  tried  to  point 
out  to  Austin  Thomas  which  was  the  papa 
"effelant"  and  which  the  baby  "effelant." 
But  Austin  Thomas's  more  infantile  capacity 
did  not  take  it  in  ;  he  only  "scrumpled"  the 
pages  with,  his  fat  hands,  and  laughed.  There 
might  soon  have  been  an  open  war  if  mamma 
had  not  soothed  her  little  girl's  wounded  feel- 
ings by  the  great  felicity  of  taking  off  her 
shoes  and  stockings,  and  letting  her  warm  her 
little  feet  by  the  fire,  while  she  lay  back  on 
her  mamma's  lap,  sucking  her  Maymie's  apron. 

The  whole  group  were  in  this  state  of  per- 
fect peace :  outside  it  had  grown  dark,  and 
mamma  had  stirred  the  fire  and  promised  to 
begin  a  quite  new  story,  when  the  door  again 
opened  and  Eddie  rushed  in.  Maurice  and 
Frankie  followed,  wet,  of  course,  to  the  skin — ■ 


146  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

for  each  left  a  little  pool  of  water  behind  him 
wherever  he  stood — but  speechless  with  ex- 
citement. Shortly  after,  up  came  the  three 
gentlemen,  likewise  silent,  but  not  from  excite- 
ment at  all 

"But  where's  the  salmon?"  asked  Sunny's 
mamma.     "Pray  let  us  see  the  salmon." 

Maurice's  papa  looked  as  solemn  as— what 
shall  I  say  ?  the  renowned  Buff,  when  he — 

' '  Strokes  his  face  with  a  sorrowful  grace, 
And  delivers  his  staff  to  the  next  place." 

He  delivered  his— no,  it  was  not  a  stick  but 
a  "  tommy  "  hat,  all  ornamented  with  fishing- 
flies,  and  dripping  with  rain,  to  any  body  that 
would  hang  it  up,  and  sank  into  a  chair,  saying 
mournfully, 

"  You  can't  see  the  salmon." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  he's  at  the  bottom  of  the  loch. 
He  got  away." 

"Got  away!" 

"  Yes,  after  giving  us  a  run  of  a  full  hour." 

"An  hour  and  five  minutes  by  my  watch," 
added  Sunny's  papa,  who  looked  as  dejected 
as  the  other  two.  Though  no  salmon-fisher, 
he  had  been  so  excited  by  the  sport  that  he 
had  sat  drenched  through  and  through,  in  the 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  147 

stern  of  the  boat,  and  afterwards  declared  "  he 
didn't  know  it  had  rained." 

"  Such  a  splendid  fish  he  was — twenty-five 
pounds  at  least." 

11  Twenty,"  suggested  some  one,  who  was  put 
down  at  once  with  scorn. 

"  Twenty-five,  I  am  certain,  for  he  rose  sev- 
eral times,  and  I  saw  him  plain.  So  did  Don- 
ald. Oh,  what  a  fish  he  was !  And  he  bit 
upon  a  trout-line !  To  think  that  we  should 
have  had  that  one  trout-line  with  us,  and  he 
chose  it.  It  could  hardly  hold  him,  of  course. 
He  required  the  tenderest  management.  We 
gave  him  every  charice"  (of  being  killed,  poor 
fish!)  "  The  minute  he  was  hooked,  I  threw 
the  oars  to  Donald,  who  pulled  beautifully, 
humoring  him  up  and  down,  and  you  should 
have  seen  the  dashes  he  made!  He  was  so 
strong — such  a  big  fish  !" 

"Such  a  big  fish!"  echoed  Eddie,  who  stood 
listening  with  open  mouth  and  eyes  that  grad- 
ually become  as  melancholy  as  his  father's. 

"And,  as  I  said,  we  played  him  for  an 'hour 
and  five  minutes.  He  was  getting  quite  ex- 
hausted, and  I  had  just  called  to  Neil  to  row 
close  and  put  the  gaff  under  him,  when  he 
came  up  to  the  surface — I  declare,  just  as  if  he 
wanted  to  have  a  stare  at  me — then  made  a 


148  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

sudden  dart,  right  under  the  boat.  No  line 
could  stand  that,  a  trout-line  especially." 

"So  he  got  away?" 

"Of  course  he  did,  with  my  hook  in  his 
mouth,  the  villain !  I  dare  say  he  has  it  there 
still." 

It  did  occur  to  Sunny's  mamma  that  the  fish 
was  fully  as  uncomfortable  as  the  fisherman, 
but  she  durst  not  suggest  this  for  the  world. 
Evidently,  the  salmon  had  conducted  himself 
in  a  most  unwarrantable  manner,  and  was  wor- 
thy of  universal  condemnation. 

Even  after  the  confusion  had  a  little  abated, 
and  the  younger  children  were  safely  in  bed, 
twenty  times  during  tea  he  was  referred  to  in 
the  most  dejected  manner,  and  his  present  po- 
sition angrily  speculated  upon — whether  he 
would  keep  the  hook  in  his  mouth  for  the  re- 
mainder of  his  natural  life,  or  succeed  in  rub- 
bing it  off  among  the  weeds  at  the  bottom  of 
the  loch. 

"  To  be  sure  he  will,  and  be  just  as  cheerful 
as  ever,  the  wretch !  Oh  that  I  had  him — hook 
and  all !     For  it  was  one  of  my  very  best  flies." 

"  Papa,  if  you  would  let  me  '  low '  you  in  the 
boat,  while  you  fished,  perhaps  he  might  come 
and  bite  again  to-morrow  ?" 

This  deep  diplomatic  suggestion  of  Eddie's 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  149 

did  not  meet  with  half  the  success  it  deserved. 
Nobody  noticed  it  except  his  mother,  and  she 
only  smiled. 

"Well!"  she  said,  trying  to  cheer  up  the 
mournful  ^company.  "  Misfortunes  can't  be 
helped  sometimes.  It  is  sad.  Twenty-five 
pounds  of  fish :  boiled,  fried  into  steaks,  kip- 
pered. Oh  dear !  what  a  help  in  the  feeding 
of  the  household!" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  patient  gentleman,  who,  be- 
ing unable  to  walk,  could  only  sit  and  fish,  and, 
having  come  all  the  way  from  London  to 
catch  a  salmon,  had  never  yet  had  a  bite  ex- 
cept this  one.  "  Yes,  twenty -five  pounds  at 
two  shillings  the  pound — Billingsgate  price 
now.  That  makes  two-pound-ten  of  good  En- 
glish money  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  loch !" 

Every  body  laughed  at  this  practical  way  of 
putting  the  matter,  and  the  laugh  a  little  raised 
the  spirits  of  the  gentlemen.  Though  still  they 
mourned,  and  mourned,  looking  as  wretched 
as  if  they  had  lost  their  whole  families  in  the 
loch,  instead  of  that  unfortunate — or  fortunate 
— salmon. 

"It  isn't  myself  I  care  for,"  lamented  Mau- 
rice's papa.  "  It's  you  others.  For  I  know 
you  will  have  no  other  chance.  The  rain  will 
clear  off — it's  clearing  off  now,  into  a  beautiful 


150  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

starlight  night.  To-morrow  will  be  another 
of  those  dreadfully  sunshiny  days.  Not  a  fish 
will  bite,  and  you  will  have  to  go  home  at  the 
week's  end — and  there's  that  salmon  lying 
snugly  in  his  hole,  with  my  hqpk  in  his 
mouth !" 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  patient  gentleman, 
who,  though  really  the  most  to  be  pitied,  bore 
his  disappointment  better  than  any  body. 
"  There's  plenty  of  fish  in  the  loch,  for  I've 
seen  them  every  day  jumping  up  ;  and  some- 
body will  catch  them,  if  I  don't.  After  all, 
we  had  an  hour's  good  sport  with  that  fellow 
to-day — and  it  was  all  the  better  for  him  that 
he  got  away." 

With  which  noble  sentiment  the  good  man 
took  one  of  the  boys  on  his  knee — his  godson, 
for  whom  he  was  planning  an  alliance  with 
his  daughter,  a  young  lady  of  four-and-a-half, 
and  began  discussing  the  settlements  he  ex- 
pected— namely,  a  large  cake  on  her  side,  and 
on  the  young  gentleman's,  at  least  ten  salmon 
out  of  the  loch,  to  be  "sent  in  a  basket  to  Lon- 
don. With  this  he  entertained  both  children 
and  parents,  so  that  every  body  grew  merry  as 
usual,  and  the  lost  salmon  fell  into  the  catego- 
ry of  misfortunes  over  which  the  best  dirge  is 
the  shrewd  Scotch  proverb,  "  It's  nae  use  greet- 
ing ower  spilt  milk." 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  151 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  forebodings  of  the  disappointed  sal- 
mon-fishers turned  out  true.  That  wet 
Monday  was  the  first  and  last  day  of  rain,  for 
weeks.  Scarcely  ever  had  such  a  dry  season 
been  known  in  the  glen.  Morning  after  morn- 
ing the  gentlemen  rowed  out  in  a  hopeless 
manner,  taking  their  rods  with  them,  under  a 
sky  cloudless  and  hot  as  June :  evening  after 
evening,  if  the  slightest  ripple  arose,  they  went 
out  again,  and  floated  about  lazily  in  the  gor- 
geous sunset,  but  not  a  salmon  would  bite. 
Fish  after  fish,  each  apparently  bigger  than 
the  other,  kept  jumping  up,  sometimes  quite 
close  to  the  boat.  Some  must  have  swum  un- 
der the  line  and  looked  at  it,  made  an  exami- 
nation of  the  fly  and  laughed  at  it,  but  as  for 
swallowing  it,  Oh  dear,  no  !  Not  upon  any  ac- 
count. 

What  was  most  tantalizing,  the  gardener, 
going  outf  one  day,  without  orders,  and  with 
one  of  his'  master's  best  lines,  declared  he  had 


152  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

booked  a  splendid  salmon !  As  it  got  away, 
and  also  carried  off  the  fry,  a  valuable  one, 
perhaps  it  was  advisable  to  call  it  a  salmon, 
but  nobody  quite  believed  this.  It  might 
have  been  only  a  large  trout. 

By  degrees,  as  salmon-fishing,  never  plenti- 
ful, became  hopeless,  and  game  scarcer  than 
ever,  the  gentlemen  waxed  dull,  and  began  to 
catch  at  the  smallest  amusements.  They  grew 
as  excited  as  the  little  boys  over  nutting-par- 
ties, going  in  whole  boat-loads  to  the  other  side 
of  the  loch,  and  promising  to  bring  home  large 
bags  of  nuts  for  winter  consumption,  but  some- 
how the  nuts  all  got  eaten  before  the  boats 
reached  land. 

The  clergyman  was  often  one  of  the  nutting- 
party.  He  knew  every  nook  and  corner  of  the 
country  round,  was  equally  good  at  an  oar  or 
a  fishing-rod,  could  walk  miles  upon  miles 
across  the  mountains,  and  scramble  over  rocks 
as  light  as  a  deer.  Besides,  he  was  so  kind  to 
children,  and  took  such  pleasure  in  pleasing 
them,  that  he  earned  their  deepest  gratitude, 
as  young  things  understand  gratitude.  But 
they  are  loving,  any  how,  to  those  that  love 
them,  and  to  have  those  little  boys  climbing 
over  him,  and  hanging  about  him,  and  teasing 
him  on  all  occasions  to  give  them  "  a  low," 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  153 

was,  I  dare  say,  sufficient  reward  for  the  good 
minister. 

Sunny  liked  him  too,  very  much,  and  was 
delighted  to  go  out  with  him.  But  there  was 
such  dangerous  emulation  between  her  and  the 
boys  in  the  matter  of  "fishing"  for  dead 
leaves,  with  a  stick,  which  involved  leaning- 
over  the  boat's  side,  and  snatching  at  them 
when  caught,  and  mamma  got  so  many  frights, 
that  she  was  not  sorry  when  the  minister  an- 
nounced thai;  every  nut-tree  down  the  canal 
had  been  "  harried  "  of  its  fruit,  and  hencefor- 
ward people  must  content  themselves  with  dry 
land  and  blackberries. 

This  was  not  an  exciting  sport,  and  one  day 
the  gentlemen  got  so  hard  up  for  amusement 
that  they  spent  half  the  morning  in  watching 
some  gymnastics  of  Maurice  and  Eddie,  which 
consisted  in  climbing  up  to  their  papa's  shoul- 
der and  sitting  on  his  head.  .  (A  proceeding 
which  Sunny  admired  so,  that  she  never  rested 
till  she  partly  imitated  it  by  "  walking  up 
mamma  as  if  she  was  a  tree,"  which  she  did 
at  last  like  a  little  acrobat.) 

Children  and  parents  became  quite  interest- 
ed in  their  mutual  performances;  every  body 
laughed  a  good  deal,  and  forgot  to  grumble  at 
the  weather,  when  news  arrived  that  a  photog- 


154  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

rapher,  coming  through  the  glen,  had  stopped 
at  the  house,  wishing  to  know  if  the  family 
would  like  their  portraits  taken. 

Now,  any  body,  not  an  inhabitant,  coming 
through  the  glen,  was  an  object  of  interest  in 
this  lonely  place.  But  a  photographer  !  Mau- 
rice's papa  caught  at  the  idea  enthusiastically. 

"  Have  him  in,  by  all  means.  Let  us  see  his 
pictures.  Let  us  have  ourselves  done  in  a 
general  group." 

"And  the  children,"  begged  their  mamma. 
"Austin  Thomas  has  never  been  properly 
taken,  and  baby  not  at  all.  I  must  have  a  por- 
trait of  baby." 

"Also,"  suggested  somebody,  "we  might  as 
well  take  a  portrait  of  the  mountains.  They'll 
sit  for  it  quiet  enough ;  which  is  more  than 
can  be  said  for  the  children,  probably." 

It  eertainly  was.  Never  had  a  photographer 
a  more  hard-working  morning.  No  blame  to 
the  weather,  which  (alas,  for  the  salmon-fish- 
ers !)  was  perfect  as  ever ;  but  the  difficulty  of 
catching  the  sitters,  and  arranging  them,  and 
keeping  them  steady,  was  enormous. 

First,  the  servants  all  wished  to  be  taken ; 
some  separately,  and  then  in  a  general  group, 
which  was  arranged  beside  the  kitchen  door, 
the   scullery  being   converted   into   a   "  dark 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  155 

room  "  for  the  occasion.  One  after  the  other, 
the  maids  disappeared,  and  re-appeared  full- 
dressed,  in  the  most  wonderful  crinolines  and 
chignons,  but  looking  not  half  so  picturesque 
as  a  Highland  farm-girl,  who,  in  her  woollen 
striped  petticoat  and  short  gown,  with  her  dark 
red  hair  knotted  up  behind,  sat  on  the  wall  of 
the  yard,  contemplating  the  proceedings. 

The  children  ran  hither  and  thither  highly 
delighted,  except  Franky  and  Austin  Thomas, 
who  were  made  to  suffer  a  good  deal,  the  latter 
being  put  into  a  stiff  white  pique  frock,  braid- 
ed with  black  braid,  which  looked  exactly  as 
if  some  one  had  mistaken  him  for  a  sheet  of 
letter-paper  and  begun  to  write  upon  him ; 
while  Franky,  dressed  in  his  Sunday's  best, 
with  his  hair  combed  and  face  clean,  was  in  an 
aggravating  position  for  his  ordinary  week-day 
amusements.  He  consoled  himself  by  running 
in  and  out  among  the  servants,  finally  sticking 
himself  in  the  centre  of  the  group,  and  being 
depicted  there,  as  natural  as  life. 

A  very  grand  picture  it  was,  the  men-serv- 
ants being  in  front  —  Highland  men  always 
seem  to  consider  themselves  superior  beings, 
and  are  seen  lounging  about  and  talking,  while 
the  women  are  shearing,  or  digging,  or  hoeing 
potatoes.     The  maids  stood  in  a  row  behind, 


156  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

bolt  upright,  smiling  as  bard  as  they  could, 
and  little  Franky  occupied  the  foreground, 
placed  between  the  gardener's  knees.  A  very 
successful  photograph,  and  worthy  of  going 
down  to  posterity,  as  doubtless  it  will. 

Now  for  the  children.  The  baby,  passive  in 
an  embroidered  muslin  frock,  came  out,  of 
course,  as  a  white  mass  with  something  resem- 
bling a  face  at  the  top ;  but  Austin  Thomas 
was  a  difficult  subject.  He  wouldn't  sit  still, 
no,  not  for  a  minute,  but  kept  wriggling  about 
on  the  kitchen  chair  that  was  brought  for  him, 
and  looked  so  miserable  in  his  stiff  frock,  that 
his  expression  was  just  as  if  he  were  going  to 
be  whipped,  and  didn't  like  it  at  all. 

In  vain  Franky,  who  always  patronized  and 
protected  his  next  youngest  brother  in  the 
tenderest  way,  began  consoling  him,  "Never 
mind,  sonnie" — that  was  Franky's  pet  name  for 
Austin — "  they  shan't  hurt  you.  I'll  take  care 
they  don't  hurt  you." 

Still,  the  great  black  thing,  with  the  round 
glass  eye  fixed  upon  him,  was  too  much  for 
Austin's  feelings.  He  wriggled,  and  wriggled, 
and  never  would  his  likeness  have  been  taken 
at  all — at  least,  that  morning — if  somebody  had 
not  suggested  "a  piece."  Off  flew  Mary  the 
cook,  and  brought  back  the  largest  "piece" — 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  157 

bread  with  lots  of  jam  upon  it — that  ever  little 
Scotchman  revelled  in.  Austin  took  it,  and, 
being  with  great  difficulty  made  to  understand 
that  he  must  pause  in  eating  now  and  then, 
the  photographer  seized  the  happy  moment, 
and  took  him  between  his  mouthfuls,  with 
Franky  keeping  guard  over  him  the  while,  lest 
any  body  did  him  any  harm.  And  a  very 
good  picture  it  is,  though  neither  boy  is  quite 
handsome  enough,  of  course.  No  photographs 
ever  are. 

Little  Sunshine,  meanwhile,  had  been  deeply 
interested  in  the  whole  matter.  She  was  quite 
an  old  hand  at  it,  having  herself  sat  for  her 
photograph  several  times. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  my  likenesses?"  she 
kept  asking  any  body  or  every  body;  and 
brought  down  the  whole  string  of  them,  de- 
scribing them  one  by  one :  "  Sunny  in  her 
mamma's  arms,  when  she  was  a  little  baby, 
very  cross;"  "Sunny  just  going  to  cry;" 
"  Sunny  in  a  boat ;"  "  Sunny  sitting  on  a 
chair;"  "Sunny  with  her  shoes  and  stockings 
off,  kicking  over  a  basket;"  and  lastly  (the 
little  show-woman  always  came  to  this  with 
a  scream  of  delight),  "That's  my  papa  and 
mamma,  Sunny's  own  papa  and  mamma,  both 
together !" 


158  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

Though,  then,  she  had  not  been  in  the  least 
afraid  of  the  camera,  but,  when  the  great  glass 
eye  looked  at  her,  looked  steadily  at  it  back, 
still  she  did  not  seem  to  like  it  now.  She 
crept  beside  her  mamma  and  her  Lizzie,  look- 
ing on  with  curiosity,  but  keeping  a  long  way 
off,  till  the  groups  were  done. 

There  were  a  few  more  taken,  in  one  of 
which  Sunny  stood  in  the  door-way  in  her 
Lizzie's  arms.  And  her  papa  and  mamma, 
who  meanwhile  had  taken  a  good  long  walk 
up  the  hill-road,  came  back  in  time  to  figure 
in  two  rows  of  black  dots  on  either  side  of  a 
shady  road,  which  were  supposed  to  be  por- 
traits of  the  whole  party.  The  mountains  op- 
posite also  sat  for  their  likenesses — which  must 
have  been  a  comfort  to  the  photographer,  as 
they  at  least  could  not  "move."  But,  on  the 
whole,  the  honest  man  made  a  good  morning's 
work,  and  benefited  considerably  thereby. 

Which  was  more  than  the  household  did. 
For,  as  was  natural,  the  cook  being  dressed  so 
beautifully,  the  dinner  was  left  pretty  much  to 
dress  itself.  Franky  and  Austin  Thomas  suf- 
fered so  much  from  having  on  their  best 
clothes  that  they  did  not  get  over  it  for  ever 
so  long.  And  Sunny,  too,  upset' by  these  ir- 
regular proceedings,  when  taking  a  long  prom- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  159 

ised  afternoon  walk  with,  ber  papa,  was  as 
cross  as  such  a  generally  good  little  girl  could 
be :  insisting  on  being  carried  the  whole  way, 
and  carried  only  by  her  mamma.  And  though, 
as  mamma  often  says,  "  She  wouldn't  sell  her 
for  her  weight  in  gold,"  she  is  a  pretty  consid- 
erable weight  to  carry  on  a  warm  afternoon. 

Still  the  day  had  passed  pleasantly  away, 
the  photographs  were  all-  done,  to  remain  as 
memorials  of  the  holiday,  long  after  it  was 
ended.  In  years  to  come,  when  the  children 
are  all  men  and  women,  they  may  discover 
them  in  some  nook  or  other,  and  try  to  sum- 
mon up  faint  recollections  of  the  time.  Oh ! 
if  Little  Sunshine  might  never  cry  except  to 
be  carried  in  mamma's  arms !  and  Austin 
Thomas  find  no  sorer  affliction  in  life  than  sit- 
ting to  be  photographed  in  stiff  white  clothes ! 
But  that  can  not  be.  They  must  all  bear 
their  burdens,  as  their  parents  did.  May  God 
take  care  of  them  when  we  can  do  it  no  more ! 

The  week  had  rolled  by — weeks  roll  by  so 
fast ! — and  it  was  again  Sunday,  the  last  Sun- 
day at  the  glen,  and  just  such  another  as  be- 
fore ;  calm,  still,  sunshiny :  nothing  but  peace 
on  earth  and  sky.  Peace !  when  far  away  be- 
yond the  circle  of  mountains  within  which  par- 
ents and  children  were  enjoying  such  inno- 


160  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

cent  pleasures,  such  deep  repose,  there  was  go- 
ing on,  for  other  parents  and  children,  the  ter- 
rible siege  of  Paris.  Week  bj  week,  and  day 
by  day,  the  Germans  were  closing  in  round  the 
doomed  city,  making  ready  to  destroy  by  fire, 
or  sword,  or  famine — all  sent  by  man's  hand, 
not  God's — hundreds,  thousands  of  innocent 
enemies.  Truly,  heaven  will  have  been  well 
filled,  and  earth  well  emptied  during  the  year 
1870. 

What  a  glorious  summer  it  was,  as  to  weath- 
er, will  long  be  remembered  in  Scotland.  Even 
up  to  this  Sunday,  the  2d  of  October,  the  air 
was  balmy  and  warm  as  June.  Every  body 
gathered  outside  on  the  terrace,  including  the 
forlorn  salmon-fishers,  whose  last  hope  was 
now  extinguished,  for  the  patient  gentleman, 
and  Sunny's  papa,  too,  were  to  leave  next 
morning.  And  the  fish  jumped  up  in  the 
glassy  loch,  livelier  than  ever,  as  if  they  were 
having  a  special  jubilee  in  honor  of  their  foe's 
departure. 

He  sat  resigned  and  cheerful,  smoking  his 
cigar,  and  protesting  that,  with  all  his  piscatory 
disappointments,  this  was  the  loveliest  place  he 
had  ever  been  in,  and  that  he  had  spent  the 
pleasantest  of  holidays !  There  he  was  left  to 
enjoy  his  last  bit  of  the  mountains  and  loch  in 


LITTLE  SUNSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  1G1 

quiet  content,  while  every  body  else  went  to 
church. 

Even  Little  Sunshine.  For  her  mamma 
and  papa  had  taken  counsel  together  whether 
it  was  not  possible  for  her  to  be  good  there,  so 
as  at  least  to  be  no  hindrance  to  other  people's 
going,  which  was  as  much  as  could  be  expect- 
ed for  so  small  a  child.  Papa  doubted  this, 
but  mamma  pleaded  for  her  little  girl,  and 
promised  to  keep  her  good  if  possible.  She 
herself  had  a  great  desire  that  the  first  time 
ever  Sunny  went  to  church  should  be  in  this 
place. 

So  they  had  a  talk  together,. mamma  and 
Sunny,  in  which  mamma  explained  that  Sun- 
ny might  go  to  church,  as  Maurice  and  Eddie 
did,  if  she  would  sit  quite  quiet,  as  she  did  at 
prayers,  and  promise  not  to  speak  one  word, 
as  nobody  ever  spoke  in  church  excepting  the 
minister.  She  promised,  this  little  girl  who 
has  such  a  curious  feeling  about  keeping  a 
promise,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  dressed 
without  murmuring — nay,  with  a  sort  of  dig- 
nified pride — to  "go  to  church."  She  even 
condescended  to  have  her  gloves  put  on,  al- 
ways a  severe  trial;  and  never  was  there  a 
neater  little  figure,  all  in  white  from  top  to  toe, 
with  a  white  straw  hat,  as  simple  as  possible, 


162  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

and  the  yellow- curls  tumbling  down  from  un- 
der it.  As  she  put. her  little  hand  in  her  mam- 
ma's and  they  two  started  together,  somewhat 
in  advance  of  the  rest,  for  it  was  a  long  half- 
mile  for  such  baby-feet,  her  mamma  involun- 
tarily thought  of  a  verse  in  a  poem  she  learnt 
when  she  herself  was  a  little  girl : 

"Thy  dress  was  like  the  lilies, 

And  thy  heart  was  pure  as  they; 
One  of  God's  holy  angels, 
Did  walk  with  me  that  day." 

Only  Sunny  was  not  an  angel,  but  an  ordinary 
little  girl.  A  good  little  girl  generally,  but 
capable  of  being  naughty  sometimes.  She 
will  have  to  try  hard  to  be  good  every  day 
of  her  life,  as  we  all  have.  Still,  with  her 
sweet  grave  face,  and  her  soft  pretty  ways, 
there  was  something  of  the  angel  about  her 
this  day. 

Her  mamma  tried  to  make  her  understand, 
in  a  dim  way,  what  "church"  meant— that  it_ 
was  saying  "  thank  you!"  to  God,  as  mamma 
did  continually ;  especially  for  His  giving  her 
her  little  daughter.  How  He  lived  up  in  the 
sky,  and  nobody  saw  Him,  but  He  saw  every 
body;  how  He  loved  Little  Sunshine,  just  as 
her  papa  and  mamma  loved  her,  and  was  glad 
when  she  was  good,  and  grieved  when  she  was 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  163 

naughty.  This  was  all  the  child  could  possi- 
bly take  in,  and  even  thus  much  was  doubt- 
ful ;  but  she  listened,  seeming  as  if  she  com- 
prehended a  small  fragment  of  the  great  mys- 
tery which  even  we  parents  understand  so  lit- 
tle. Except  that  when  we  look  at  our  chil- 
dren, and  feel  how  dearly  we  love  them,  how 
much  we  would  both  do  and  sacrifice  for  them, 
how  if  we  have  to  punish  them  it  is  never  in 
anger  but  in  anguish  and  pain,  suffering  twice 
as  much  ourselves  the  while — then  we  can 
faintly  understand  how  He  who  put  such  love 
into  us,  must  Himself  love  infinitely  more,  and 
meant  us  to  believe  this,  when  He  called  Him- 
self our  Father.  Therefore  it  was  that  through 
her  papa's  and  mamma's  love  Sunny  could  best 
be  taught  her  first  dim  idea  of  God. 

She  walked  along  very  sedately,  conversing 
by  the  way,  and  not  attempting  to  dart  from 
side  to  side,  after  one  object  or  another,  as  this 
butterfly  child  always  does  on  a  week-day. 
But  Sunday,  and  Sunday  clothes,  conduced  ex- 
ceedingly to  proper  behavior.  Besides,  she 
felt  that  she  was  her  mamma's  companion,  and 
was  proud  accordingly.  Until,  just  before 
reaching  the  church,  came  a  catastrophe  which 
certainly  could  not  have  happened  in  any  other 
church-going  walk  than  this. 


164  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

A  huge,  tawny-colored  bull  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  road,  with  half  a  dozen  cows  and 
calves  behind  him.  They  moved  away,  feed- 
ing leisurely  on  either  side  the  road,  but  the 
bull  held  his  ground,  looking  at  mamma  and 
Sunny  from  under  his  shaggy  brows,  as  if  he 
would  like  to  eat  them  up, 

"Mamma, take  her!"  whispered  the  poor  lit- 
tle girl,  rather  frightened,  but  neither  crying 
nor  screaming. 

Mamma  popped  her  prayer-book  in  her 
pocket,  dropped  her  parasol  on  the  ground, 
and  took  up  her  child  on  her  left  arm,  leaving 
the  right  arm  free.  A  fortnight  ago  she  would 
have  been  alarmed,  but  now  she  understood 
the  ways  of  these  Highland  cattle,  and  that 
they  were  not  half  so  dangerous  as  they  looked. 
Besides,  the  fiercest  animal  will  often  turn  be- 
fore a  steady,  fearless  human  eye.  So  they 
stood  still,  and  faced  the  bull,  even  Sunny 
meeting  the  creature  with  a  gaze  as  firm  and 
courageous  as  her  mamma's.  He  stood  it  for  a 
minute  or  so,  then  he  deliberately  turned  tail, 
and  walked  up  the  hill-side. 

"The  big  bull  didn't  hurt  Sunny!  He 
wouldn't  hurt  little  Sunny,  would  he,  mam- 
ma !"  said  she,  as  they  walked  on  together. 
She  has  the  happiest  conviction  that  no  crea- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  1C5 

fore  in  the  world  would  ever  be  so  unkind  as 
to  hurt  Sunny.  How 'should  it — when  she  is 
never  unkind  to  any  living  thing?  When  the 
only  living  thing  that  ever  she  saw  hurt — a 
wasp  that  crept  into  the  carriage,  and  stung 
Sunny  on  her  poor  little  leg,  and  her  nurse 
was  so  angry  that  she  killed  it  on  the  spot — 
caused  the  child  a  troubled  remembrance. 
She  talked,  months  afterwards,  with  a  grave 
countenance,  of  "the  wasp  that  "was  obliged  to 
be  killed,  because  it  stung  Sunny." 

She  soon  looked  benignly  at  the  big  bull,  now 
standing  watching  her  from  the  hill-side,  and 
wanted  to  play  with  the  little  calves,  who  still 
staid  feeding  near.  She  was  also  very  anx- 
ious to  know  if  they  were  going  to  church 
too  ?  But  before  the  question — a  rather  puz- 
zling one — could  be  answered,  she  was  over- 
taken by  the  rest  of  the  congregation,  including 
Maurice  and  Eddie,  with  their  parents.  The 
two  boys  only  smiled  at  her,  and  walked  into 
church,  so  good  and  grave  that  Sunny  was  im- 
pressed into  preternatural  gravity  too.  When 
the  rest  were  seated,  she,  holding  her  mamma's 
hand,  walked  quietly  in  as  if  accustomed  to  it 
all,  and  joined  the  congregation. 

The  seat  they  chose  was,  for  precaution,  the 
one  nearest  the  door,  and  next  to  uthe  pauper," 


166  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

•an  old  man  who  alone  of  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  glen  did  not  work,  but  received  parish  re- 
lief. He  was  just  able  to  come  to  church,  but 
looked  as  if  he  had  "  one  foot  in  the  grave,"  as 
people  say  (whither,  indeed,  the  other  foot  soon 
followed,  for  the  poor  old  man  died  not  many 
weeks  after  this  Sunday).  He  had  a  wan, 
wearjr,  but  uncomplaining  face ;  and  as  the 
rosy  child,  with  her  bright  curls,  her  fair  fresh 
cheeks,  and  plump  round  limbs,  sat  down  upon 
the  bench  beside  him,  the  two  were  a  strange 
and  touching  contrast. 

Never  did  any  child  behave  better  than  Lit- 
tle Sunshine,  on  this  her  first  going  to  church. 
Yes,  even  though  she  soon  caught  sight  of  her 
own  papa,  sitting  a  few  benches  off,  but  afraid 
to  look  at  her  lest  she  should  misbehave. 
Also  of  Maurice's  papa  and  mamma,  and  of 
Maurice  and  Eddie  themselves,  not  noticing 
her  at  all,  and  behaving  beautifully.  She  saw 
them,  but,  faithful  to  her  promise,  she  did  not 
speak  one  word,  not  even  in  a  whisper  to  mam- 
ma. She  allowed  herself  to  be  lifted  up  and 
down,  to  sit  or  stand  as  the  rest  did,  and  when 
the  music  began  she  listened  with  an  ecstasy 
of  pleasure  on  her  little  face ;  but  otherwise 
she  conducted  herself  as  well  as  if  she  had  been 
thirteen,  instead  of  not  quite  three  years  old. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  167 

Once  only,  when  the  prayers  were  half  through, 
and  the  church  was  getting  warm,  she  gravely 
took  off  her  hat  and  laid  it  on  the  bench  be- 
fore her — sitting  the  rest  of  the  service  with 
her  pretty  curls  bare — but  that  was  all. 

Daring  the  sermon  she  was  severely  tried. 
Not  by  its  length,  for  it  was  fortunately  short, 
and  she  sat  on  her  mamma's  lap,  looking  fixed- 
ly into  the  face  of  the  minister,  as  pleased  with 
him  in  his  new  position  as  when  he  was  row- 
ing her  in  the  boat,  or  gathering  nuts  for  her 
along  the  canal  bank.  All  were  listening,  as 
attentive  as  possible,  for  every  body  loved  him, 
Sundays  and  week-days ;  and  even  Sunny  her- 
self gazed  as  earnestly  as  if  she  were  taking  in 
every  word  he  said — when  her  quick  little 
eyes  were  caught  by  a  new  interest — a  small, 
shaggy  Scotch  terrier,  who  put  his  wise-look- 
ing head  inquiringly  in  at  the  open  door. 

Oh,  why  was  the  church  door  left  open  ? 
No  doubt,  so  thought  the  luckless  master  of 
that  doggie!  He  turned  his  face  away;  he 
kept  as  quiet  as  possible,  hoping  not  to  be  dis- 
covered ;  but  the  faithful  animal  was  too  much 
for  him.  In  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  the  creature 
rushed  in  and  out  and  under  several  people's 
legs,  till  he  got  to  the  young  man  who  owned 
him,  and  then  jumped  upon  him  in  unmistak- 


168 

able  recognition.  Happily,  he  did  not  bark; 
indeed,  bis  master,  turning  red  as  a  peony,  beld 
bis  band  over  tbe  creature's  mouth. 

"What  was  to  be  done?  If  he  scolded  the 
dog,  or  beat  him,  there  would  be  a  disturbance 
immediately ;  if  he  encouraged  or  caressed  him, 
the  loving  beast  would  have  begun — in  fact, 
he  did  slightly  begin  —  a  delighted  whine. 
All  the  perplexed  master  could  do  was  to  keep 
him  as  quiet  as  circumstances  allowed,  which 
he  managed  somehow  by  setting  his  foot  on 
the  wildly-wagging  tail,  and  twisting  his  fin- 
gers in  one  of  the  long  ears,  the  dog  resisting 
not  at  all.  Quite  content,  if  close  to  his  mas- 
ter, the  faithful  beast  snuggled  down,  amusing 
himself  from  time  to  time  by  gnawing  first  a 
hat,  and  then  an  umbrella,  and  giving  one 
small  growl  as  an  accidental  footstep  passed 
down  the  road;  but  otherwise  behaving  as 
as  well  as  any  body  in  church.  The  master, 
too,  tried  to  face  out  his  difficulty,  and  listen 
as  if  nothing  was  the  matter ;  but  I  doubt  he 
rather  lost  the  thread  of  the  sermon. 

So  did  Sunny's  mamma  for  a  few  minutes. 
Sunny  is  so  fond  of  little  doggies,  that  she  ful- 
ly expected  the  child  to  jump  from  her  lap, 
and  run  after  this  one ;  or,  at  least,  to  make  a 
loud  remark  concerning  it,  for  the  benefit  of 


LITTLE  SUXSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  169 

• 

the  congregation  generally.  But  Sunny  evi- 
dently remembered  that  "nobody  spoke  in 
church ;"  and  possibly  she  regarded  the  dog's 
entrance  as  a  portion  of  the  service,  for  she 
maintained  the  most  decorous  gravity.  She 
watched  him,  of  course,  with  all  her  eyes ;  and 
once  she  turned  with  a  silent  appeal  to  her 
mamma  to  look  too,  but  said  not  a  word.  The 
little  terrier  himself  did  not  behave  better  than 
she,  to  the  very  end  of  the  service. 

It  ended  with  a  beautiful  hymn — "  0  Thou 
from  whom  all  goodness  flows."  Every  body 
knows  it,  and  the  tune  too ;  which  I  think  was 
originally  one  of  those  sweet  litanies  to  the 
Virgin  which  one  hears  in  French  churches, 
especially  during  the  month  of  May.  The 
little  congregation  knew  it  well,  and  sang  it 
well  too.  When  Sunny  saw  them  all  stand 
up,  she  of  her  own  accord  stood  up  likewise, 
mounting  the  bench  beside  the  old  pauper, 
who  turned  half  round,  ancl  looked  on  the 
pleasant  child  with  a  faint,  pathetic  •  sort  of 
smile. 

Strange  it  was  to  stand  and  watch  the  dif- 
ferent people  who  stood  singing,  or  listening 
to,  that  hymn  ;  Maurice  and  Eddie,  with  their 
papa  and  mamma;  other  papas  and  mammas 
with  their  little  ones ;   farmers  and  farm-serv- 


170  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ants  who  lived  in  the  glen,  with  a  chance 
tourist  or  two  who  happened  to  be  passing 
through ;  several  old  Highland  women,  grim 
and  gaunt  with  long  hard-working  lives ;  the 
poor  old  pauper,  who  did  not  know  that  his 
life  was  so  nearly  over ;  and  lastly,  the  little 
three-years-old  child,  with  her  blue  eyes  wide 
open  and  her  rosy  lips  parted,  not  stirring  a 
foot  or  a  finger,  perfectly  motionless  with  de- 
light. •  Verse  after  verse  rose  the  beautiful 
hymn,  not  the  less  beautiful  because  so  famil- 
iar : 

"O  Thou  from  whom  all  goodness  flows, 
I  lift  my  soul  fo  Thee; 
In  all  my  sorrows,  conflicts,  woes, 
O  Lord,  remember  me! 

"When  on  my  aching  burdened  heart, 
My  sins  lie  heavily, 
Thy  pardon  grant,  Thy  peace  impart, 
In  love,  remember  me! 

"When  trials'  sore  obstruct  my  way, 
And  ills  I  can  not  flee, 
Oil !  let  my  strength  be  as  my  day, 
For  good,  remember  me ! 

"When  worn  with  pain,  disease,  and  grief, 
This  feeble  body  see, 
Give  patience,  rest,  and  kind  relief, 
Hear,  and  remember  me ! 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  171 

"When  in  the  solemn  hour  of  death 
I  wait  Thy  just  decree, 
Be  this  the  prayer  of  my  last  breath, 
'O  Lord,  remember  me!'" 

As  Little  Sunshine  stood  there,  unconscious- 
ly moving  her  baby  lips  to  the  pretty  tune — 
ignorant  of  all  the  words  and  their  meaning — 
her  mother,  not  ignorant,  took  the  tiny  soft 
hand  in  hers  and  said  for  her  in  her  heart, 
"Amen." 

When  the  hymn  was  done,  the  congregation 
passed  slowly  out  of  church,  most  of  them 
stopping  to'  speak  or  shake  hands,  for  of  course 
all'knew  one  another,  and  several  were  neigh- 
bors and  friends.  Then  at  last  Sunny's  papa 
ventured  to  take  up  his  little  girl,  and  kiss 
her,  telling  her  what  a  very  good  little  girl  she 
had  been,  and  how  pleased  he  was  to  see  it. 
The  minister,  walking  home  between  Maurice 
and  Eddie,  who  seized  upon  him  at  once, 
turned  round  to  say  that  he  had  never  known 
a  little  girl,  taken  to  church  for  the  first  time, 
behave  so  remarkably  well.  And  though  she 
was  too  young  to  understand  any  thing  except 
that  she  had  been  a  good  girl,  and  every  body 
loved  her  and  was  pleased  with  her,  still  Sun- 
ny also  looked  pleased,  as  if  satisfied  that 
church-going  was  a  sweet  and  pleasant  thing. 


172  LITTLE- SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  delicious  holiday 
— equally  delicious  to  her  papa  and  mam- 
ma too — was  now  fast  drawing  to  a  close. 
This  Sunday  sunset,  more  gorgeous  perhaps 
than  ever,  was  the  last  that  the  assembled 
party  of  big  and  little  people  watched  together 
from  the  terrace.  By  the  next  Sunday,  they 
knew,  all  of  them  would  be  scattered  far  and 
wide,  in  all  human  probability  never  again  to 
meet,  as  a  collective  party,  in  this  world.  For 
some  of  them  had  come  from  the  "  under 
world,"  the  Antipodes,  and  were  going  back 
thither  .in  a  few  months,  and  all  had*  their 
homes  and  fortunes  widely  dispersed,  so  as  to 
make  their  chances  of  future  reunion  small. 

They  were  sorry  to  part,  I  think — even  those 
who  were  nearly  strangers  to  one  another — and 
those  who  were  friends  were  very  sorry  in- 
deed. The  children,  of  course,  were  not  sorry 
at  all,  for  they  understood  nothing  about  the 
matter.     For  instance,  it  did  not  occur  in  the 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  173 

least  to  Sunny  or  to  Austin  Thomas  (still  view- 
ing one  another  with  suspicious  eyes,  and  al- 
ways on  the  brink  of  war,  though  Sunny  kept 
her  promise,  and  did  not  attack  again),  that  the 
next  time  they  met  might  be  as  big  boy  and 
girl,  learning  lessons,  and  not  at  all  disposed 
to  fight;  or  else  as  grown  young  man  and 
woman,  obliged  to  be  polite  to  one  another 
whether  they  liked  it  or  not. 

But  the  elders  were  rather  grave,  and  watch- 
ed the  sun  set — or  rather  not  the  sun,  for  he 
was  always,  invisible  early  in  the  afternoon,  the  • 
house  being  placed  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
hill — but  the  sunset  glow  on  the  range  of 
mountains  opposite.  Which,  as  the  light  grad- 
ually receded  upward,  the  shadow  pursuing, 
had  been  evening  after  evening  the  loveliest 
sight  imaginable.  This  night  especially,  the 
hills  seemed  to  turn  all  colors,  fading  at  last 
into  a  soft  gray,  but  keeping  their  outlines 
distinct  long  after  the  loch  and  valley  were  left 
dark. 

So,  good-bye,  sun  !  When  he  rose  again, 
two  of  the  party  would  be  on  board  a  steam- 
boat— the  steamboat,  for  there  was  but  one — sail- 
ing away  southward,  where  there  were  no  hills, 
no  lochs,  no  salmon-fishing,  no  idle  sunshiny- 
days — nothing  but  work,  work,  work.  For 
M 


174  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

"  grown-ups,"  as  Sunny  calls  them,  do  really 
work ;  though,  as  a  little  girl  once  observed 
pathetically  to  Sunny's  mamma,  "  Ob,  I  wish  I 
was  grown  up,  and  then  I  might  be  idle  !  We 
children  have  to  work  so  hard  !  while  you  and 
my  mamma  do  nothing  all  day  long."  (Oh 
dear !) 

Well,  work  is  good,  and  pleasant  too; 
though  perhaps  Sunny's  papa  did  not  exactly 
think  so,  when  he  gave  her  her  good-night  kiss, 
which  was  also  good-bye.  For  he  was  to  start 
so  early  in  the  morning  that  it  was  almost  the 
middle  of  the  night,  in  order  to  catch  the  steam- 
er which  should  touch  at  the  pier  ten  miles 
off,  between  six  and  seven  A.M.  Consequently, 
there  was  breakfast  by  candle-light,  and  hasty 
adieux,  and  a  dreary  departure  of  the  carriage 
under  the  misty  morning  starlight ;  every  body 
making  an  effort  to  be  jolly,  and  not  quite  ac- 
complishing it.  Then  every  body  or  as  many 
as  had  had  courage  to  rise,  went  to  bed  again, 
and  tried  to  sleep,  with  varied  success,  Sunny's 
mamma  with  none  at  all. 

It  recurred  to  her,  as  a  curious  coincidence, 
that  this  very  day,  twenty-five  years  before, 
after  sitting  up  all  night,  she  had  watched,  sol- 
emnly as  one  never  does  it  twice  in  a  life-time", 
a  glorious  sunrise.     She  thought  she  would  go 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  175 

out  and  watch  another,  from  the  hill-side,  over 
the  mountains. 

My  children,  did  you  ever  watch  a  sunrise? 
ISTo  ?  Then  go  and  do  it  as  soon  as  ever  you 
can.  Not  lazily  from  your  bed-room  window, 
but  out  in  the  open  air,  where  you  seem  to 
hear  and  see  the  earth  gradually  waking  up,  as 
she  does  morning  after  morning,  each  waking 
as  wonderful  and  beautiful  as  if  she  had  not 
done  the  same  for  thousands  of  years,  and  may 
do  it  for  thousands  more. 

When  the  carriage  drove  off,  it  was  still  star- 
light— morning  starlight,  pale,  dreary,  and  ex- 
cessively cold;  but  now  a  faint  colored  streak 
of  dawn  began  to  put  the  stars  out,  and  creep 
up  and  up  behind  the  curves  of  the  eastern 
hills.  Gradually,  the  daylight  increased — it 
was  clear  enough  to  see  things,  though  every 
thing  looked  cheerless  and  gray.  The  grass 
and  heather  were  not  merely  damp,  but  soak- 
ing wet,  and  over  the  loch  and  its  low-lying 
shores  was  spread  a  shroud  of  white  mist. 
There  was  something  almost  painful  in  the  in- 
tense stillness;  it  felt  as  if  all  the  world  were 
dead  and  buried,  and  when  suddenly  a  cock 
crew  from  the  farm,  he  startled  one  as  if  he 
had  been  a  ghost. 

But  the  mountains — the  mountains !     Turn- 


176  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ing  eastward,  to  look  at  them,  all  the  dullness, 
solitude,  and  dreariness  of  the  lower  world  van- 
ished. They  stood  literally  bathed  in  light, 
as  the  sun  rose  up  behind  them,  higher  and 
higher,  brighter  and  brighter,  every  minute. 
Suddenly,  an  arrow  of  light  shot  across  the 
valley;  and  touched  the  flat  granite  bowlder 
on  which,  after  a  rather  heavy,  climb,' Sunny's 
mamma  had  succeeded  in  perching  herself  like 
a  large  bird,  tucking  her  feet  under  her,  and 
wrapping  herself  up  as  tightly  as  possible  in 
her  plaid,  as  some  slight  protection  against  the 
damp  cold.  But  when  the  sunshine  came, 
chilliness  and  cheerlessness  vanished.  And  as. 
the  beam  broadened,  it  seemed  to  light  up  the 
whole  world. 

How  she  longed  for  her  child,  not  merely 
for  company,  though  that  would  have  been 
welcome  in  the  extreme  solitude,  but  that  she 
might  show  her,-  what  even  such  baby  eyes 
could  not  but  have  seen — the  exceeding  beau- 
ty of  God's  earth,  and  told  her  how  it  came 
out  of  the  love  of  God,  who  loved  the  world 
and  all  that  was  in  it.  How  He-loved  Sunn}', 
•and  would  take  care  of  her  all  her  life,  as  He 
had  taken  care  of  her,  and  of  her  mamma,  too. 
How,  if  she  were  good  and  loved  Him  back 
again,  He   would   be   sure   to  make  for   her, 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  177 

through  all  afflictions,  a  happy  life  ;  since,  like 
the  sunrise,  "  His  mercies  are  new  every  morn- 
ing, and  His  compassions  fail  not." 

Warmer  and  warmer  the  cold  rock  grew ;  a 
few  birds  began  to  twitter,  the  cocks  crowed 
from  the  farm-yard,  and  from  one  of  the  cot- 
tages a  slender  line  of  blue  peat-smoke  crept 
up,  showing  that  somebody  else  was  awake  be- 
sides Sunny's  mamma ;  which  was  rather  a 
comfort — she  was  getting  tired  of  having  the 
world  all  to  herself. 

Presently  an  old  woman  came  out  of  a  cot- 
tage-door, and  went  to  the  burn  for  water, 
probably  to  make  her  morning  porridge.  A 
tame  sheep  followed  her,  walking  leisurely  to 
the  burn  and  back  again,  perhaps  with  an  eye 
to  the  porridge-pot  afterwards.  And  a  lazy 
pussy-cat  also  crept  out,  and  climbed  on  the 
roof  of  the  cottage,  for  a  little  bit  of  sunshine 
before  breakfast.  Sunny's  mamma  also  began 
to  feel  that  it  was  time  to  see  about  breakfast, 
for  sunrise  on  the  mountains  makes  one  very 
hungry. 

Descending  the  hill  was  worse  than  ascend- 
ing, there  being  no  regular  track,  only  some 
marks  of  where  the  sheep  were  in  the  habit  of 
climbing.  And  the  granite  rocks  presented  a 
flat  sloping  surface,  sometimes  bare,  sometimes 


178  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

covered  with  slippery  moss,  which  was  not  too 
agreeable.  Elsewhere,  the  ground  was  gener- 
ally boggy,  with  tufts  of  heather  between, 
which  one  might  step  or  jump.  But  as  soon 
as  one  came  to  a  level  bit  it  was  sure  to  be 
bog,  with  little  streams  running  through  it, 
which  had  to  be  crossed  somehow,  even  with- 
out the  small  convenience  of  stepping-stones. 

Once,  when  her  stout  stick  alone  saved  her 
from  a  sprained  ankle,  she  amused  herself  with 
thinking  how  in  such  a  case  she  might  have 
shouted  vainly  for  help,  and  how  bewildered 
the  old  woman  at  the  cottage  would  have  been 
on  finding  out  that  the  large  creature,  a  sheep 
as  she  .probably  supposed,  sitting  on  the  bowl- 
der overhead,  which  she  had  looked  up  at  once 
or  twice,  was  actually  a  wandering  lady! 

It  was  now  half-past  seven,  and  the  usual 
breakfast  party  on  the  door-step  was  due  at 
eight.  Welcome  was  the  sound  of  little  voices, 
and  the  patter  of  small  eager  feet  along  the 
gravel  walk.  Sunny 's  mamma  had  soon  her 
own  child  in  her  arms,  and  the  other  children 
round  her,  all  eating  bread  and  butter  and 
drinking  milk  with  the  greatest  enjoyment. 
The  sun  was  now  quite  warm,  and  the  mist 
had  furled  off  the  loch,  leaving  it  clear  and 
smooth  as  ever. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  179 

Suddenly  Eddie's  sharp  eyes  caught  some- 
thing there  which  quite  interrupted  his  meal. 
It  was  a  water-fowl,  swimming  in  and  out 
among  the  island  of  water-lilies,  and  even 
coming  as  close  in  shore  as  the  pier.  Not  one 
of  the  nine  geese,  certainly ;  this  bird  was 
dark-colored,  and  small,  yet  seemed  larger  than 
the  water-hens,  which  also  were  familiar  to  the 
children.  Some  one  suggested  it  might  possi- 
bly be  a  wild  duck. 

Eddie's  eyes  brightened,  "  Then  might  I 
'low 'in  a  boat,  with  papa's  gun,  and  go  and 
shoot  it?" 

This  being  a  too  irregular  proceeding,  Sun- 
ny's  mamma  proposed  a  medium  course,  name- 
ly, that  Eddie  should  inform  his  papa  that 
there  was  a  bird  supposed  to  be  a  wild  duck, 
and  then  he  might  do  as  he  thought  best  about 
shooting  it. 

Maurice  and  Eddie  were  accordingly  off  like 
lightning;  three  of  Maurice's  worms,  which 
had  taken  the  opportunity  of  crawling  out  of 
his  pocket  and  on  to  the  tray,  being  soon  after- 
wards found  leisurely  walking  over  the  bread 
and  butter  plate.  Franky  and  Austin  Thomas 
took  the  excitement  calmly,  the  one  thinking 
it  a  good  chance  of  eating  up  his  brothers'  re- 
jected shares,  and  the  other  proceeding  unno- 


180  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ticed  to  his  favorite  occupation  of  filling  the 
salt-cellar  with  sand  from  the  walk. 

Soon,  Donald,  who  had  also  seen  the  bird, 
appeared,  with  his  master's  gun  all  ready,  and 
the  master  having  got  into  his  clothes  in  pre- 
ternatu rally  quick  time,  hurried  down  to  the 
loch,  his  boys,  accompanying  him.  Four  per- 
sons, two  big  and  two  little,  after  one  unfortu- 
nate bird !  which  still  kept  swimming  about, 
a  tiny  black  dot  on  the  clear  wTater,  as  happy 
and  unconscious  as  possible. 

The  ladies,  too,  soon  came  out  and  watched 
the  sport  from  the  terrace ;  wondering  whether 
the  duck  was  within  range  of  the  gun,  and 
whether  it  really  was  a  wild  duck,  or  not.  A 
shot,  heard  from  behind  the  trees,  deepened 
the  interest ;  and  when,  a  minute  after,  a  boat 
containing  Maurice,  Eddie,  their  papa,  and 
Donald,  was  seen  to  pull  off  from  the  pier,  the 
excitement  was  so  great  that  nobody  thought 
about  breakfast. 

"  It  must  be  a  wild  duck  ;  they  have  shot  it : 
it  will  be  floating  on  the  water,  and  they  are 
going  after  it  in  the  boat." 

"  I  hope  Eddie  will  not  tumble  into  the 
water,  in  his  eagerness  to  pull  the  bird 
out."  .  . 

"  There — the  gun  is  in  the  boat  with  them  ! 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  181 

Suppose  Maurice  stumbles  over  it,  and  it  goes 
off  and  shoots  somebody." 

Such  were  the  maternal  -forebodings,  but 
nothing  of  the  sort  happened,  and  by-and-by, 
when  breakfast  was  getting  exceedingly  cold, 
a  little  procession,  all  unharmed,  was  seen  to 
wind  up  from  the  loch,  Eddie  and  Maurice  on 
either  side  of  their  papa.  He  walked  between 
them,  shouldering  his  gun,  so  that  loaded  or  not, 
it  could  not  possibly  hurt  his  little  boys.  But 
he  looked  extremely  dejected,  and  so  did  Don- 
ald, who  followed,  bearing  "  the  body  " — of  a 
poor  little  dripping,  forlorn-looking  bird. . 

"Is  that  the  wild  duck?"  asked  every  body 
at.  once. 

"  Pooh !  It  wasn't  a  wild  duck  at  all.  It 
was  only  a  large  water-hen.  Not  worth  the 
trouble  of  shooting,  certainly  not  of  cooking. 
f  And  then  we  had  all  the  bother  of  getting  out 
the  gun,  and  tramping  over  the  wet  grass  to 
get  a  fair  shot,  and,  after  we  shot  it,  of  rowing 
after  it,  to  fish  it  up  out  of  the  loch.  Wretch- 
ed bird !" 

Donald,  imitating  his  master,  regarded  the 
booty  with  the  utmost  contempt,  even  kicking 
it  with  his  foot  as  it  lay,  poor  -little  thing! 
But  no  kicks  could,  harm  it  now.  Sunny 
only  went  up  and  touched  it  timidly,  strok- 


183  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

ing  its  pretty  wet  feathers  with  her  soft  little 
hand.  . 

"  Mamma,  can't  it  fly  ?  why  doesn't  it  get  up 
and  fly  away?  And  it  is  so  cold.  Might 
Sunny  warm  it?"  as  she  had  once  tried  to 
warm  the  only  dead  thing  she  ever  saw — a  lit- 
tle field-mouse  lying  on  the  garden-walk  at 
home,  which  she  put  in  her  pinafore  and  cud- 
dled up  to  her  little  "  bosie,"  and  carried  about 
with  her  for  half  an  hour  or  more. 

Quite  puzzled,  she  watched  Donald  carrying 
off  the  bir,d,  and  only  half  accepted  mamma's 
explanation  that  "  there  was  no  need  to  warm 
it — it  was  gone  to  its  bye-bye,  and  would  not 
wake  up  any  more." 

Though  she  was  living  at  a  shooting-lodge, 
this  was  the  only  dead  thing  Sunny  had  yet 
chanced  to  see,  for  there  was  so  little  game, 
about  that  the  gentlemen  rarely  shot  any. 
But  this  morning  one  of  them  declared  that 
if  he  walked  his  legs  off  over  the  mountains, 
he  must  go  and  have  a  try  at  something.  So 
off  he  set,  guided  by  Donald,  while  the  rest  of 
the  party  fished  meekly  for  trout,  or  went 
along  the  hill-road  on  a  still  more  humble 
hunt  after  blackberries.  Sometimes  they  won- 
dered about  the  stray  sportsman,  and  listened 
for  gun-shots  from  the  hills — the  sound  of  a 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  183 

gun  could  be  heard  for  so  very  far  in  this 
still  bright  weather.  And  when  at  the  usual 
dinner-hour  he  did  not  appear,  they  waited  a 
little  while  for  him.  They  were  going  at 
length  to  begin  the  meal,  when  he  was  seen 
coming  leisurely  along  the  garden  walk. 

Eager  were  the  inquiries  of  the  master. 
"  Well — any  grouse?" 

"No." 

".Partridges?" 

"  No." 

"  I  knew  it.  There  has  not  been  a  partridge 
seen  here  for  years.     Snipes,  perhaps  ?" 

"  Never  saw  one." 

11  Then,  what  have  you  been  about?  Have 
you  shot  nothing  at  all  ?" 

"  Not  quite  nothing.  A  roe-deer.  The  first 
I  ever  killed  in  my  life.     Here,  Donald." 

With  all  his  brevity,  the  sportsman  could 
not  hide  the  sparkle  of  his  eye.  Donald,  look- 
ing equally  delighted,  unloosed  the  creature, 
which  he  had  been  carrying  round  his  neck 
in  the  most  affectionate  manner,  its  fore  legs 
clasped  over  one  shoulder,  and  its  hind  legs 
over  the  other,  and  laid  it  down  on  the  gravel 
walk. 

What  a  pretty  creature  it  was,  with  its  round 
slender  shapely  limbs,  its  smooth  satin  skin, 


184  LITTLE  S  UNSHLNE !  S  HO  LID  A  T. 

and  its  large  eyes,  that  in  life  would  have  been 
so  soft  and  bright !  They  were  dim  and  glazed 
now,  though  it  was  scarcely  cold  yet. 

Every  body  gathered  round  to  look  at  it, 
and  the  sportsman  told  the  whole  story  of  his 
shot. 

"  She  is  a  hind,  you  see  ;  most  likely  has  a 
fawn  somewhere  not  far  off.  For  I  shot  her 
close  by  the  farm  here.  I  .was  coming  home, 
not  over-pleased  at  coming  so  empty-handed, 
when  I  saw  her  standing  on  the  hill-top,  just 
over  that  rock  there  ;  a  splendid  shot  she  was, 
but  so  far  off  that  I  never  thought  I  should 
touch  her.  However,  I  took  aim,  and  down 
she  dropped.  Just  feel  her.  She  is  an  admi- 
rable creature,  so  fat !     Quite  a  picture !" 

So  it  was,  but  a  rather  sad  one.  The  deer 
lajr,  her  graceful  head  hopelessly  dangling,  and 
bloody  drops  beginning  to  ooze  from  her  open 
mouth.  Otherwise  she  might  have  been  asleep 
— as  innocent.  Sunny,  who  had  run  with  the 
boys  to  see  the  sight,  evidently  thought  she 
was. 

"Mamma,  look  at  the  little  baa-lamb,  the 
dear  little  baa-lamb.     Won't  it  wake  up  ?" 
•    Mamma  explained  that  it  was  not  a  baa- 
lamb, but  a  deer,  and  there  stopped,  consider- 
in  sc  how  to  make  her  child  understand  that 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  *  185 

solemn  thing,  death  ;  which  no  child  can  be 
long  kept  in  ignorance  of,  and  yet  which  is  so 
difficult  to  explain.  Meantime,  Sunny  stood 
looking  at  the  deer,  but  did  not  attempt  to 
touch  it  as  she  had  touched  the  water-hen.  It 
was  so  large  a  creatureto  lie  there  so  helpless 
and  motionless.  At  last  she  looked  up,  with 
trouble  in  her  eyes. 

"Mamma,  it  won't  wake  up.  Make  it  wake 
up,  please !" 

"I  can't,  my  darling!"  And  there  came  a 
choke  in  mamma's  throat — this  foolish  mamma, 
who  dislikes  "sport" — who  looks  upon  sol- 
diers as  man-slayers,  "glory"  as  a  great  delu- 
sion, and  war  a  heinous  crime.  "  My  little  one, 
the  pretty  deer  has  gone  to  sleep,  and  nobody 
can  wake  it  up  again.  But  it  does  not  suffer. 
Nothing  hurts  it  now.  Come  away,  and 
mamma  will  tell  you  more  about  this  anoth- 
er day." 

The  little  fingers  contentedly  twined  them- 
selves in  her  mamma's,  and  Sunshine  came 
away,  turning  back  now  and  then  a  slightly 
regretful  look  on  the  poor  hind  that  lay  there, 
the  admiration  of  every  body,  and  especially' 
of  the  gentleman  who  had  shot  it. 

"  The  first  I  ever  shot,"  he  repeated,  with 
great  pride.     "  I  only  wish  I  could  stay  and 


186  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

eat  her.  But  the  rest  of  you  will."  (Except 
Sunny's  mamma,  who  was  rather  glad  to  be 
spared  that  satisfaction.) 

A  single  day  was  now  all  that  remained  of 
the  visit — a  day  which  dawned  finer  than  ever, 
making  it  so  hard  to  quit  the  hills,  and  the 
loch,  and  all  the  charms  of  this  beautiful  place. 
Not  a  cloud  on  the  sky,  not  a  ripple  on  the 
waters,  blackberries  saying  "  come  gather  me," 
by  hundreds  from  every  bramble,  ferns  of  rare 
sort  growing  on  dikes,  and  banks,  and  roots 
of  trees.  This  whole  morning  must  be  spent 
on  the  hill-side  by  Sunny  and  her  mamma, 
combining  business  with  pleasure,  if  possible. 

So  they  took  a  kitchen-knife  as  an  extem- 
pore spade;  a  basket,  filled  with  provisions, 
but  meant  afterwards  to  carry  roots,  and  the 
well-known  horn  cup,  which  was  familiar  with 
so  many  burns.  Sunny  used  it  for  all  sorts 
of  purposes  besides  drinking ;  filled  it  with 
pebbles,  blackberries,  and  lastly  with  some 
doubtful  vegetables,  which  she  called  "ferns," 
and  dug  up,  and  brought  to  her  mamma  to 
take  home  '"  very  carefully." 

Ere  long  she  was  left  to  mamma's  charge 
entirety,  for  this  was  the  last  day,  and  Lizzie 
had  never  climbed  a  mountain,  which  she  was 
most  anxious  to  do,  having  the  common  delu- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  187 

sion  that  to  climb  a  mountain  is  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world — as  it  looks,  from  the  bot- 
tom. 

Off  she  started,  saying  she  should  be  back 
again  directly,  leaving  mamma  and  the  child 
to  watch  her  from  the  latest  point  where  there 
was  a  direct  path — the  cottage  where  the  old 
woman  had  come  out  and  gone  to  the  burn  at 
sunrise.  Behind  it  was  a  large  bowlder,  sun- 
shiny and  warm  to  sit  on,  sheltered  by  a  hay- 
rick, on  the  top  of  which  was  gambolling  a 
pussy-cat.  Sunny,  with  her  usual  love  for  an- 
imals, pursued  it  with  relentless  affection,  and 
at  last  caught  it  in  her  lap,  where  it  remained 
about  one  minute,  and  then  darted  away. 
Sunny  wept  bitterly,  but  was  consoled  by  a 
glass  of  milk  kindly  brought  by  the  old  wom- 
an ;  with  which  she  tried  to  allure  pussy  back 
again,  but  in  vain. 

So  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  sit  on  her 
mamma's  lap  and  watch  her  Lizzie  climbing 
up  the  mountain,  in  sight  all  the  way,  but 
gradually  diminishing  to  the  size  of  a  calf,  a 
sheep,  a  rabbit ;  finally  of  a  black  speck,  which 
a  sharp  eye  could  distinguish  moving  about  on 
the  green  hill-side,  creeping  from  bush  to  bush, 
and  from  bowlder  to  bowlder,  till  at  last  it  came 
to  the  foot  of  a  perpendicular  rock. 


188  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

"She'll  no  climb  that,"  observed  the  old 
woman,  who  had  watched  the  proceeding  with 
much  interest.  "Naebody  ever  does  it:  she'd 
better  come  down.  Cry  on  her  to  come 
down." 

"Will  she  hear?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

And  in  the  intense  stillness,  also  from  the 
law  of  sound  ascending,  it  was  curious  how  far 
one  could  hear.  To  mamma's  great  relief,  the 
black  dot  stopped  in  its  progress. 

"  Lizzie,  come  down,"  she  called  again,  slow- 
ly and  distinctly,  and  in  a  higher  key,  aware 
that  musical  notes  will  reach  far  beyond  the 
speaking  voice.  "  You've  lost  the  path.  Come 
down !" 

"  I'm  coming,"  was  the  faint  answer,  and  in 
course  of  time  Lizzie  came,  very  tired,  and  just 
a  little  frightened.  She  had  begun  to  climb 
cheerfully  and  rapidly  at  first,  for  the  hill-side 
looked  in  the  distance  nearly  as  smooth  as  an 
English  field.  When  she  got  there,  she  found 
it  was  rather  different — that  heather-bushes, 
bowlders,  mosses,  and  bogs,  were  not  the  pleas- 
antest  walking.  Then  she  had  to  scramble  on 
all -fours,  afraid  to  look  downward,  lest  her 
head  should  turn  dizzy,  and  she  might  lose  her 
hold,  begin  rolling  and  rolling,  and  never  stop 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'' 8  HOLIDAY.  189 

till  she  came  to  the  bottom.  Still,  she  went 
on  resolutely,  her  stout  English  heart  not  lik- 
ing to  be  beaten  even  by  a  Scotch  mountain  ; 
clinging  from  bush  to  bush — at  this  point  a 
small  wood  had  grown  up — until  she  reached 
a  spot  where  the  rock  was  perpendicular,  nay, 
overhanging,  as  it  formed  the  shoulder  of  the 
hill. 

"I  might  as  well  have  climbed  up  the  side 
of 'a  house,"  said  poor  Lizzie,  forlornly;  and 
looked  up  at  it,  vexed  at  being  conquered,  but 
evidently  thankful  that  she  had  got  down 
alive.  "Another  timer—or  if  I  have  some- 
body with  me — I  do  believe  I  could  do  it." 

Bravo,  Lizzie !  Half  the  doings  in  the  world 
are  done  in  this  spirit.  ISTever  say  die!  Try 
again.     Better  luck  next  time. 

Meanwhile  she  drank  the  glass  of  milk  of- 
fered by  the  sympathizing  old  Highland  wom- 
an, who  evidently  approved  Of  the  adventurous 
English  girl,  then  sat  down  to  rest  beside  Lit- 
tle Sunny.  - 

But  Sunny  had  no  idea  of  resting.  She 
never  has,  unless  in  bed  and  asleep.  Xow 
she  was  bent  upon  also  climbing  a  mountain — 
a  granite  bowlder  about  three  feet  high. 

"Look,  mamma,  look  at  Sunny!     Sunny's 
going  to  climb  a  mountain,  like  Lizzie." 
N 


190  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

Up  she  scrambled  with  both  arms  and  legs — 
catching  at  the  edges  of  the  bowlder,  but  tum- 
bling back  again  and  again.  Still  she  was  not 
daunted. 

"  Don't  help  me  ! — don't  help  me  !"she  kept 
saying.  "Sunny  wants  to  climb  a  mountain 
all  by  her  own  self." 

Which  feat  she  accomplished  at  last,  and 
succeeded  in-  standing  upright  on  the  top  of 
the  bowlder,  very  hot,  very  tired,  but  triumph- 
ant. 

"  Look,  mamma !  look  at  Sunny  !  Here  she 
is !" 

Mamma  looked ;  in  fact,  had  been  looking 
out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  the  whole  time ; 
though  not  assisting  at  all  in  the  courageous 
effort. 

"Yes,  I  see.  Sunny  has  climbed  a  mount- 
ain:   Clever  little  girl !    Mamma  is  so  pleased !" 

How  many  "mountains"  will  she  climb  in  her 
life,  that  brave  little  soul !  Mamma  wonders 
often,  but  knows  not.     Nobody  knows. 

In  the  mean  time  success  was  won.  She, 
her  mamma,  and  her  Lizzie,  had  each  "climbed 
a  mountain."  But  they  all  agreed  that  though 
pleasant  enough  in  its  way,  such  a  performance 
was  a  thing  not  to  be  attempted  every  day. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  191 


CHAPTEB  XL 

THE  last  day  came — the  last  hour.  Sunn}r, 
her  mamma,  and  her  Lizzie,  had  to  turn 
their  ways  homeward — -a  long,  long  journey  of 
several  hundred  miles.  To  begin  it  at  four  in 
the  morning,  with  a  child,  too,  was  decided  as 
impracticable ;  so  it  was  arranged  that  they 
should  leave  over-night,  and  sleep  at  the  only 
available  place,  an  inn  which  English  superi- 
ority scornfully  termed  a  "  public-house,"  but 
which  here  in  the  Highlands  was  called  the 
"hotel,"  where  "gentlemen  could  be  accom- 
modated with  excellent  shooting  -  quarters." 
Therefore,  it  was  supposed  to  be  able  to  ac- 
commodate a  lady  and  a  child — for  one  night 
at  least. 

Fortunately,  the  shooting  gentlemen  did  not 
avail  themselves  of  it;  for  the  hotel  contained 
only  two  guest-rooms.  These  being  engaged, 
and  the  exact  time  of  the  boat  next  morning 
learnt — which  was  not  so  easy,-  as  every  body 
in  the  neighborhood  gave  different  advice,  and 
a  different  opinion — the  departure  was  settled. 


192  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

Lovelier  than  ever  looked  the  hills  and  the 
loch  when  the  carriage  came  round  to  the 
door.  All  the  little  boys  crowded  round  it 
with  vociferous  farewell — which  they  evident- 
ly thought  great  fun — Sunny  likewise. 

"Good-bye!  good-bye!"  cried  she,  as  cheer- 
fully as  if  it  had  been  "  how  d'ye  do,"  and  ob- 
stinately refused  to  be  kissed  by  any  body. 
Indeed,  this  little  girl  does  not  like  kisses,  un- 
less she  offers  them  of  her  own  accord. 

One  only- grief  she  had,  but  that  was  a  sharp 
one.  Maurice's  papa,  who  had  her  in  his 
arms,  suddenly  proposed  that  they  should 
"  send  mamma  away,  and  keep  Sunny ;"  and 
the  scream  of  agony  she  gave;  and  the  frantic 
way  she  clung  to  her  mamma,  and  would  not 
look  at  any  body  for  fear  of  being  kept  prison- 
er, was  quite  pathetic. 

At  last  the  good-byes  were  over.  For  Lit- 
tle Sunshine  these  are  as  yet  meaningless  ;  life 
to  her  is  a  series  of  delight — the  new  ones 
coming  as  the  old  ones  go.  The  felicity  of 
kissing  her  hand  and  driving  away,  was  soon 
followed  by  the  amusement  of  standing  on  her 
mamma's  lap,  where  she  could  see  "every  thing 
along  the  road,  which  she  had  passed  a  fort- 
night before  in  dark  night. 

Now  it  was  golden  twilight — such  a  twi- 


LITTLE  SILYSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  193 

light !  A  year  or  two  hence  Sunny  would 
have  been  in  ecstasy  at  the  mountains,  stand- 
ing range  behind  range,  literally  transfigured 
in  light,  with  the  young  moon  floating  like  a 
"silver  boat"  (only  turned  the  wrong  way  up- 
permost) over  their  tops.  As  it  was,  the  large 
distant  world  interested  her  less  than  the  small 
near  one — the  trees  that  swept  her  face  as  she 
drove  along  the  narrow  road,  and  the  numer- 
ous cows  and  calves  that  fed  on  either  side 
of  it. 

There  was  also  a  salt-water  loch,  with  fish- 
ing-boats drawn  up  on  the  beach,  and  long 
fishing-nets  hanging  on  poles ;  but  not  a  living 
creature  in  sight,  except  a  heron  or  two.  These 
stood  on  one  leg,  solemnly,  as  herons  do,  and 
then  flew  off,  flapping  their  large  wings  with  a 
noise  that  made  Little  Sunshine,  as  she  ex- 
pressed it,  "  nearly  jump."  Several  times,  in- 
deed, she  "nearly  jumped"  out  of  the  carriage 
at  the  curious  things  she  saw :  such  funny 
houses,  such  little  windows — "only  one  pane, 
mamma" — and  above  all,  the  girls  and  boys 
barefooted,  shock-headed,  that  hung  about  star- 
ing at  the  carriage  as  it  passed. 

"  Have  those  little  children  got  no  Lizzie  to 
comb  their  hair  ?"  she  anxiously  inquired  ;  and 
mamma  was  obliged  to  confess  that  probably 


194  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

they  had  not,  at  which  Sunny  looked  much 
surprised. 

It  was  a  long,  long  drive,  even  with  all  these 
entertainments ;  and  before  it  ended,  the  twi- 
light had  faded,  the  moon  crept  higher  over 
the  hill,  and  Sunshine  asked  in  a  whisper  for 
"  Maymie's  apron."  The  little  "  Maymie's 
apron,"  which  had  long  lain  in  abeyance,  was 
produced,  and  she  soon  snuggled  down  in  her 
mamma's  arms  and  fell  fast  asleep. 

When  she  woke  up  the  "  hotel"  was  reached. 
Such  a  queer  hotel !  You  entered  by  a  low 
door-way,  which  opened  into  the  kitchen  be- 
low, and  a  narrow  staircase  leading  to  the 
guest-rooms  above.  From  the  kitchen  Sunny 
heard  a  baby  cry..  She  suddenly  stopped, 
and  would  not  go  a  step  till  mamma  had  prom- 
ised she  should  see  the  baby — a  very  little 
baby,  only  a  week  old.  Then  she  mounted 
with  dignity  up  the  rickety  stairs,  and  began 
to  examine  her  new  apartments. 

They  were  only  two,  and  as  homely  as  they 
well  could  be.  Beside  the  sitting-room  was  a 
tiny  bed-room,  with  a  "  hole  in  the  wall,"  where 
Lizzie  was  to  sleep.  This  "  hole  in  the  wall " 
immediately  attracted  Sunny;  she  jumped  in 
it,  and  began  crawling  about  it,  and  tried  to 
stand  upright  under  it,  which,  being  such  a 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  195 

very  little  person, -she  was  just  able  to  do. 
Finally,  she  wanted  to  go  to  sleep  in  it,  till, 
hearing  she  was  to  sleep  with  mamma,  a  much 
grander  thing,  she  went  up  to  the  bed,  and  in- 
vestigated it  with  great  interest  likewise.  Also 
the  preparations  for  her  bath,  which  was  to  be 
in  a  washing-tub  in  front  of  the  parlor  fire — a 
peat  fire.  It  had  a  delicious,  aromatic  smell, 
and  it  brightened  up  the  whole  room,  which 
was  very  clean  and  tidy,  after  all. 

So  was  the  baby,  which  shortly  appeared 
in  its  mother's  arms.  She  was  a  pale,  delicate 
woman,  speaking  English  with  the  slow  pre- 
cision of  a  Highlander,  and  having  the  self- 
composed,  courteous  manner  that  all  High- 
landers have.  She  looked  much  pleased  when 
her  baby  was  admired— though  not  by  Sunny, 
who,  never  having  seen  so  young  a  baby  be- 
fore, did  not  much  approve  of  it,  and  especial- 
ly disapproved  of  seeing  it  taken  into  her  own 
mamma's  arms.  So  presently  it  and  its  moth- 
er disappeared,  and  Sunny  and  her  mamma 
were  left  to  eat  their  supper  of  milk,  bread 
and  butter,  and  eggs ;  which  they  did  with 
great  content.  Sunny  was  not  quite  so  con- 
tent to  go  to  bed,  but  cried  a  little,  till  her 
mamma  set  the  parlor-door  half  open,  that  the 
fire-light  might  shine  in.     Yery  soon  she  also 


196  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

crept  in  beside  her  little  girl ;  who  was  then 
not  afraid  of  any  thing. 

But  when  they  woke,  in  the  dim  dawn,  it 
was  under  rather  V  frightening  "  circumstances. 
There  was  a  noise  below,  of  a  most  extraordi- 
nary kind,  shouting,  singing,  dancing — yes,  evi- 
dently dancing,  though  at  that  early  hour  of 
the  morning.  It  could  not  have  been  contin- 
ued from  overnight,  mamm.a  having  distinctly 
heard  all  the  family  go  to  bed,  the  children 
tramping  loudly  up  the  stairs,  at. nine  o'clock, 
after  which  the  inn  was  quite  quiet.  No,  these 
must  be  new  guests,  and  very  noisy  guests  too. 
They  stamped,  they  beat  with  their  feet,  they 
cried  "  whoop !"  or  "  hech  !"  or  some  other 
perfectly  unspellable  word,  at  regular  intervals. 
Going  to  sleep  again  was  impossible  ;  especial- 
ly as  Sunny,  unaccustomed  to  such  a  racket, 
began  to  cry,  and  would  have  fallen  into  a 
downright  sobbing  fit,  but  for  the  amusement 
of  going  to  the  "hole  in  the  wall,"  to  wake 
her  Lizzie.  Upon  which  every  body  rose,  the 
peat  fire  was  rekindled,  and  the  new  day 
began. 

"The  good  folk  below  stairs  must  have  begun 
it  rather  early.  They  were  a  marriage  party 
who  hacl  walked  over  the  hills,  several  miles, 
to  see  the  bride  and  bridegroom  off  by  the  boat. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  1D7 

"  Sunny  wants  to  look  at  them,"  said  the 
child,  who  listens  to  every  thing,  and  wants  to 
have  a  finger  in  every  pie. 

So,  as  soon  as  dressed,  she  was  taken  down, 
and  stood  at  the  door  in  her  mamma's  arms  to 
see  the  fan. 

Very  curious  "fun"  it  was.  About  a  dozen 
young  men  and  women,  very  respectable-look- 
ing, and  wonderfully  dressed,  though  the  wom- 
en had  their  muslin  skirts  pretty  well  draggled 
— not  surprising,  considering  the  miles  they 
had  trudged  over  mountain  and  bog,  in  the 
damp  dawn  of  the  morning — were  dancing 
with  all  their  might  and*  main,  the  lassies  with 
their  feet,  the  lads  with  feet,  heads,  hands, 
tongues,  snapping  their  fingers  and  crying 
"  hech !"  or  whatever  it  was,  in  the  most  ex- 
citing manner.  It  was  only  excitement  of 
dancing,  however;  none  of  them  seemed  the 
least  drunk.  They  stopped  a  minute,  at  sight 
of  the  lady  and  child,  and  then  went  on  again, 
dancing  most  determinedly,  and  as  solemnly 
as  if  it  were  to  save  their  lives,  for  the  next 
quarter  of  an  hour. 

English  Lizzie,  who  had  never  seen  a  High- 
land reel  before,  looked  on  with  as  much  as- 
tonishment as  Sunny  herself.  That  small  per- 
son, elevated  in  her  mamma's  arms,  gazed  on 


198  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLLDA Y. 

the  scene  without  a  single  smile;  there  being 
no  music,  the  dance  was  to  her  merely  a  noise 
and  a  scuffle.  Presently  she  said  gravely, 
"  Now  Sunny  will  go  away." 

They  went  away,  and  after  drinking  a  glass 
of  milk — oh,  what  delicious  milk  those  High- 
land cows  give ! — they  soon  heard  the  distant 
paddles  of  the  boat,  as  she  steamed  in  between 
the  many  islands  of  which  this  sea  is  full. 
Then  mounting  an  extraordinary  vehicle,which 
in  the  bill  was  called  a  "  carridge,"  they  headed 
a  procession,  consisting  of  the  wedding  party 
walking  sedately  two  and  two,  a  young  man 
and  young  woman  arm  in  arm,  down  to  the 
pier.  The  married  couple  were  put  on  board 
the  boat  (together  with  Sunny,  her  mamma, 
and  her  Lizzie,  who  all  felt  very  small,  and  of 
no  consequence  whatever),  then  there  was  a 
great  shouting  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs, 
and  a  spluttering  and  splattering  of  Gaelic 
good  wishes,  and  the  vessel  sailed  away. 

By  this  time  it  was  broad  daylight,  though 
no  sun  was  visible.  Indeed,  the  glorious  sun- 
rises seemed  ended  now ;  it  was  a  gray,  cheer- 
less morning,  and  so  misty  that  no  mountains 
could  be  seen  to  take  farewell  of.  The  deli- 
cious Highland  life  was  all  gone  by  like  a 
dream. 


LITTLE  SUNSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  199 

This  homeward  journey  was  over  the  same 
route  that  Sunny  had  travelled  a  fortnight  be- 
fore, and  she  went  through  it  in  much  the 
same  fashion.  She  ran  about  the  boat,  and 
made  friends  with  half  a  dozen  people,  for  no 
kindly  face  is  long  a  strange  face  to  Little 
Sunshine.  She  was  noticed  even  by  the  grim 
weather-beaten  captain  (he  had  a  lot  of  little 
people  of  his  own,  he  said),  only  when  he  told 
her  she  was  u  a  bonnie  wee  lassie,"  she  once 
more  indignantly  repelled  the  accusation. 

"I'm  not  a* bonnie  wee  lassie.  I'm  Sunny, 
mamma's  little  Sunny,"  repeated  she,  and  would 
not  look  at  him  for  at  least  two  minutes. 

She  bore  the  various  changes  from  sea-boat 
to  canal-boat,  etc.,  with  her  usual  equanimity. 
At  one  place  there  was  a  great  crush,  and  they 
got  so  squeezed  up  in  a  crowd  that  her  mamma 
did  not  like  it  at  all,  but  Sunny  was  perfectly 
composed,  mamma's  arms  being  considered 
protection  against  any  thing.  And  when  the 
nine  locks  came,  she  cheerfully  disembarked 
and  walked  along  the  towing-path  for  half  a 
mile,  in  the  bravest  manner.  Gradually,  as 
amusement  began  to  fail  her,  she  .found  several 
playfellows  on  board,  a  little  dog  tied  by  a 
string,  and  a  pussy  cat  shut  up  in  a  hamper, 
which  formed  part  of  the  luggage  of  an  unfor- 


200  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

tunate  gentleman'  travelling  to  London  with 
five  daughters,  six  servants,  and  about  fifty 
boxes — for  he  was  overheard  counting  them. 
In  the  long,  weary  transit  between  the  canal- 
boat  and  the  sea,  Sunny  followed  this  impris- 
oned cat,  which  mewed  piteously ;  and  in  its 
sorrows  she  forgot  her  own. 

But  she  was  growing  very  tired,  poor  child! 
and  the  sunshine,  which  alwajTs  has  a  curious 
effect  upon  her  temper  and  spirits,  had  now 
altogether  disappeared.  A  white,  dull,  chill 
mist  hung  over  the  water,  fortunately  not  thick 
enough  to  stop  traffic,  as  had  happened  two 
days  before,  but  still  enough  to  make  the  river 
ver}'  dreary.  Little  Sunshine,  too,  went  under 
a  cloud ;  she  turned  naughty,  and  insisted  on 
doing  whatever  she  was  bid  not  to  do ;  climb- 
ing in  the  most  dangerous  places,  leaning  over 
the  boat's  side  to  look  at  the  waves;  misbe- 
havior which  required  a  strong  hand  and  watch- 
ful eyes  to  prevent  serious  consequences.  But 
mamma  was  more  sorry  than  angry,  for  it  was 
hard  for  the  little  woman  ;  and  she  was  espe- 
cially touched  when,  being  obliged  to  forbid 
some  stale  unwholesome  fruit  and  doubtful 
"  sweeties,"  over  which  Sunny  lingered  and 
longed,  by  saying  "  they  belonged  to  the  cap- 
tain," the  child  answered  sweetly. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  201 

"  Bat  if  the  .kind  captain  were  to  give  Sunny 
some,  then  she  might  have  them  ?" 

The  kind  captain  not  appearing,  alas!  she 
passed  the  basket  with  a  sigh,  and  went  down 
to  the  engines.  To  see  the  gigantic  machinery 
turning  and  turning,  never  frightened  but  only 
delighted  her.  And  mamma  was  so  thankful 
to  find  any  thing  to  break  the  tedium  of  the 
fourteen  hours'  journey,  that  though  her  little 
girl  went  down  to  the  engine-room  neat  and 
clean  in  a  white  pelisse,  and  came  up  again 
looking  just  like  a  little  sweep,  she  did  not 
mind  it  at  all ! 

Daylight  faded  ;  the  boat  emptied  gradually 
of  its  passengers,  including  the  gentleman  with 
the  large  family  and  the  fifty  boxes ;  and  on 
deck  it  began  to  grow  very  cold.  Sunny  had 
made  excursions  down  below  for  breakfast, 
dinner,  and  tea,  at  all  of  which  meals  she  con- 
ducted herself  with  the  utmost  propriety,  but 
now  she  took  up  her  quarters  permanently  in 
the  comfortable  saloon. 

Not  to  sleep,  alack  !  though  her  mamma  set- 
tled down  in  a  corner,  and  would  have  given 
any  thing  for  "just  one  little  minute,"  as  Sun- 
ny says,  of  quiet  •  slumber,  but  the  child  was 
now  preternaturally  wide  awake,  and  as  lively 
as  a  cricket.     So  was  a  little  boy,  named  Wil- 


203  LITTLE  SUNSHLYE'S  HOLIDAY. 

lie,  with  whom  she  had  made  friends,  and  was 
on  such  terms  of  intimacy  that  they  sat  on  the 
floor  and  shared  their  food  together,  and  then 
jumped  about,  playing  at  all  sorts  of  games, 
and  screaming  with  laughter,  so  that  even  the 
few  tired  passengers  who  remained  in  the  boat, 
as  she  steamed  up  the  narrow,  foggy  river, 
could  not  help  laughing  too. 

This  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  hours 
more,  and  even  then,  Sunny,  who  was  quite 
good  now,  was  with  difficulty  caught  and 
dressed,  in  preparation  for  the  stopping- of  the 
boat,  when  she  was  promised  she  should  see 
papa.  But  she  will  endure  any  martyrdom 
of  bonnet-tying  or  boot-buttoning  if  only  she 
thinks  she  is*  going  to  meet  her  papa. 

Unluckily  there  had  been  some  mistake  as  to 
hours,  and  when  she  was  carried  on  deck,  in 
the  sudden  darkness,  broken  only  by  the  glim- 
mer of  the  line  of  lights  along  the  wharf,  and 
plunged  into  the  midst  of  a  dreadful  confusion 
— porters  leaping  on  board  and  screaming  to 
passengers,  and  passengers  searching  wildly  for 
their  luggage — no  papa  was  there.  To  double 
her  grief,  she  also  lost  her  mamma,  who  of 
course  had  to  see  to  things  at  once  herself. 
Through  the  noise  and  •  whirl  she  heard  the 
voice  of  the  child,  "Mammal  mamma!"     It 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  203 

was  a  cry  not  merely  of  distress — but  agony, 
with  a  "  grown-up  "  tone  in  it  of  actual  despair. 
No  doubt  the  careless  jest  of  Maurice's  papa 
had  rankled  in  Ker  little  mind,  and  she  thought 
mamma  was  torn  from  her  in  real  truth,  and 
forever. 

When  at  last  mamma  came  back,  the  grasp 
with  which  the  poor  little  girl  clung  to  her 
neck  was  absolutely  frantic. 

"  Mamma  went  away  and  left  Sunny — Sun- 
ny lost  mamma,"  and  mamma  could  feel  the 
little  frame  shaking  with  terror  and  anguish. 
Poor  lamb !  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but 
to  take  her  and  hold  her  tight,  and  stagger 
with  her  somehow  across  the  gangway  to  the 
cab.  But  even  there  she  never  loosened  her 
clasp  for  a  minute  till  she  got  safe  into  a  bright 
warm  house,  where  she  found  her  own  papa. 
Then  the  little  woman  was  content. 

She  had  still  another  journey  before  her,  and 
without  her  papa  too.  A  night  journey,  which 
promised  to  be  easy  and  comfortable,  but 
turned  out  quite  the  contrary.  A  journey  in 
which  Sunny's  powers  of  endurance  were  taxed 
to  the  utmost,  so  that  it  will  be  years  before 
she  forgets  the  wind-up  of  her  holiday. 

Her  papa  put  his  family  safe  in  a  carriage 
all  to  themselves,  and  under  special  charge  of 


20-1  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

the  guard.  Then  he  left  them,  just  settling 
down  to  sleep ;  Sunny  being  disposed  of  in  a 
snug  corner,  with  an  air-cushion  for  a  pillow, 
and  furry  shawls  wrapped  about  her,  almost  as 
cozy  as  in  her  own  little  crib,  in  which,  after 
her  various  changes  and  vicissitudes,  she  was 
soon  to  repose  once  more. 

She  fell  asleep  in  five  minutes,  and  her 
mamma,  who  wTas  very  tired,  soon  dozed  also, 
until  roused  by  a  sharp  cry  of  fright.  There 
was  the  poor  little  girl,  lying  at  the  bottom  of 
the  carriage,  having  been  thrown  there  by  its 
violent  rocking.  It  rocked  still,  and  rocked 
for  many  many  miles,  in  the  most  dreadful* 
manner.  When  it  stopped  the  guard  was  ap- 
pealed to,  who  said  it  was  "  the  coupling-chains 
too  slack,"  and  promised  to  put  all  right.  So 
the  travellers  went  to  sleep  again,  this  time 
Sunny  in  her  mamma's  arms,  which  she  re- 
fused to  quit. 

Again  more  jolting,  and  another  catastrophe; 
mamma  and  the  child  finding  themselves  lying 
both  together  on  the  floor.  This  time  Sunny 
was  much  frightened,  and  screamed  violentlj-, 
repulsing  even  her  mamma. 

"I  thought  you  were  not  my  own  mamma  ; 
I  thought  you  were  somebody  else,"  said  she 
afterwards,  and  it  wTas  a  lon^  time  before  she 


LITTLE  SUXSHIXE'S  HOLIDAY.  20.} 

came  to  her  right  self  and  cuddled  down  ;  the 
oscillation  of  the  carriage  continuing  so  bad 
that  it  was  as  much  as  her  mamma  could  do, 
by  wrapping  her  own  arms  round  her,  to  pro- 
tect the  poor  child  from  being  hurt  and 
bruised. 

The  guard,  again  appealed  to,  declared  there 
was  no  danger,  and  that  he  would  find  a  more 
comfortable  carriage  at  the  next  stopping- 
place  :  but  in  vain.  It  was  a  full  train,  and 
the  only  two  seats  vacant  were  in  a  carriage 
full  of  gentlemen,  who  might  object  to  a  poor, 
sleepy,  crying  child.  The  little  party  went 
hopelessly  back. 

"Perhaps  those  gentlemen  might  talk  so 
loud  they  might  waken  Sunny,"  said  the  child 
sagely,  evidently  remembering  her  experiences 
of  five  weeks  ago.  At  any  rate,  nobody  wished 
to  try  the  experiment. 

Since  there  was  no  actual  danger,  the  only 
remedy  was  endurance.  Mamma  settled  her- 
self as  firmly  as  she  could,  making  a  cradle  of 
her  arms.  There,  at  length,  the  poor  child, 
who  had  long  ceased  crying,  and  only  gave  an 
occasional  weary  moan,  feU  into  a  doze,  which 
ended  in  quiet  sleep.  She  was  very  heavj-, 
and  the  hours  seemed  very  long,  but  still  they 
slipped  away  somehow.  Nothing  is  absolute- 
O 


206  LITTLE  S  UNSHLXE '  S  HO  LID  A  7. 

\j  unbearable  when  one  feels  that,  being  inevi- 
table, it  must  be  borne. 

Of  course  nobody  slept,  except  the  child,  un- 
til near  day-break,  -when  a  new  and  more  be- 
nevolent guard  came  to  the  rescue,  had  the 
coupling-chains  fastened  (which,  they  found, 
had  never  been  done  at  all  till  now),  and  less- 
ened the  shaking  of  the  carriage.  Then  tired 
Lizzie  dropped  asleep  too,  and  the  gray  morn- 
ing dawned  upon  a  silent  carriage,  sweeping 
rapidly  across  the  level  English  country,  so 
different  from  that  left  behind.  No  more 
lochs,  no  more  mountains.  No  more  sunshine 
neither,  as  it  appeared;  for  there  was  no  sign 
of  sunrise,  and  the  day  broke  amidst  pelting 
rain,  which  kept  drip,  drip,  upon  the  top  of  the# 
carriage,  till  it  seemed  as  if  a  deluge  would 
soon  be  added  to  the  troubles  of  the  journey. 

But  these  were  not  so  bad  now.  Yery  soon 
the  little  girl  woke  up,  neither  frightened  nor 
cross,  but  the  same  sunshiny  child  as  ever. 

"Mamma!"  she  said,  and  smiled  her  own 
•beaming  smile,  and  sat  up  and  looked  about 
her.     "It's  daylight.     Sunny  wants  to  get  up." 

That  getting  up  was  a  most  amusing  affair. 
It  lasted  as  long  as  mamma's  ingenuity  could 
possibly  make  it  last,  without  any  assistance 
from  poor  worn-out  Lizzie,  who  was  left  to 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  y8  HOLIDA  T.  207 

sleep  her  fill.  First,  Sunny's  face  and  hands 
had  to  be  washed  with  a  damp  sponge,  and 
wiped  with  mamma's  pocket  -  handkerchief. 
Then  her  hair  was  combed  and  brushed,  with 
a  brush  that  had  a  looking-glass  on  the  back 
of  it ;  in  which  she  contemplated  herself  from 
time  to  time,  laughing  with  exceeding  merri- 
ment. Lastly,  there  was  breakfast  to  be  got 
ready,  and  eaten. 

A  most  original  breakfast !  Beginning  with 
a  large  pear,  out  of  a  basketful  which  a  kind 
old  gentleman  had  made  up  as  a  special  pres- 
ent to  Sunny;  then  some  ham  sandwiches — 
from  which  the  ham  was  carefully  extracted  ; 
then  a  good  drink  of  milk.  To  uncork  the 
bottle  in  which  this  milk  had  been  carried,  and 
pour  it  into  the  horn  cup  without  spilling,  re- 
quired an  amount  of  skill  and  care  which  occu- 
pied both  mamma  and  Sunny  for  ever  so  long. 
In  fact,  they  spent  over  their  dressing  and 
breakfasting  nearly  an  hour ;  and  by  this  time 
they  were  both  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  be- 
nignly compassionate  to  Lizzie,  who  slept  on, 
and  wanted  no  breakfast. 

And  when  the  sun  at  last  came  out,  a  wa- 
tery and  rather  melancholy  orb,  not  at  all  like 
the  sun  of  the  Highlands,  the  child  was  as 
bright  and  merry  as  if  she  had  not  travelled 


208  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY. 

at  all,  and  played  about  in  the  railway-carriage 
just  as  if  it  were  her  own  nursery.  t 

This  was  well,  for  several  weary  hours  had 
still  to  be  passed  ;  the  train  was  far  behind  its 
time;  and  what  poor  mamma  would  have 
done  without  the  unfailing  good  temper  of 
her  "  sunshiny  child,"  she  could  not  tell. 
When  London  was  reached,  and  the  benevo- 
lent guard  once  more  put  his  head  into  the 
carriage,  with  "  Here  we  are  at  last.  I  should 
think  you'd  had  eribugh  of  it,  ma'am,"  even  he 
could  not  help  giving  a  smile  to  the  "little 
Missy  "  who  was  so  merry  and  so  go'od. 

In  London  was  an  hour  or  two  more  of 
weary  delay ;  but  it  was  under  a  kindly  roof, 
and  Sunny  had  a  second  beautiful  breakfast, 
all  proper,  with  tea-cups  and  a  table-cloth ; 
which  she  did  not  seem  to  find  half  so  amusing# 
as  the  irregular  one  in  the  railway-carriage. 
But  she  was  very  happy,  and  continued  happy, 
telling  all  her  adventures  in  Scotland  to  a  dear 
old  Scotchwoman  whom  she  loves  exceeding- 
ly, and  who  loves  her  back  again.  And  being 
happy,  she  remained  perfectly  good,  until  once 
more  put  into  a  "puff-puff,"  to  be  landed  at 
her  own  safe  home. 

Home.  Even  the  child  understood  the  joy 
of  going  home.     She  began  talking  of  i{Sun- 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  209 

ny's  nursery ;"  "  Sunny's  white  pussy  ;"  "  Sun- 
ny's  little  dog  Eose;"  and  recalling  all  the 
servants  by  name,  showing  she  forgot  nothing 
and  nobody,  though  she  had  been  absent  so 
long.  She  chattered  all  the  way  down,  till 
some  ladies  who  were  in  the  carriage  could 
hardly  believe  she  had  been  travelling  all 
night.  And  when  the  train  stopped,  she  was 
the  first  to  look  out  of  the  window  and  call 
out  "There's  godmamma!" 

So  it  was !  Sunny's  own  kind  godmamma, 
come  unexpectedly  to  meet  her  and  her  tired 
mamma  at  the  station;  and  oh!  they  were 
both  so  glad ! 

M  Glad  "  was  a  small  word  to  express  the  per- 
fect and  entire  felicity  of  getting  home — of  find- 
ing the  house  looked  just  as  usual;  that  the 
servants'  cheerful  faces  beamed  welcome ;  that 
even  the  doggie  Rose  barked,  and  white  pussy 
purred,  as  if  both  were  glad  Little  Sunshine  was 
back  again.  She  marched  up  stairs,  lifting  her 
short  legs  deliberately  one  after  the  other,  and 
refusing  to  be  carried  ;  then  ran  into  her  nurs- 
ery, just  as  if  she  Jiad  left  it  only  yesterday. 
And  she  "allowed"  her  mamma  to  have  din- 
ner with  her  there,  sitting  at  table,  as  grand  as 
if  she  were  giving  a  dinner-party;  and  chattering 
like  a  little  magpie  to  the  very  end  of  the  meal. 


210  LITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDA Y. 

But  after  that  she  collapsed.  So  did  her 
mamma.  So  did  her  Lizzie.  They  were  all 
so  dreadfully  tired  that  human  nature  could 
endure  no  more.  Though  it  was  still  broad 
daylight,  and  with  all  the  delights  of  home 
around  them,  they  went  to  bed,  and  slept 
straight  on — mamma  "  all  round  the  clock," 
and  the  child  and  her  Lizzie  for  fourteen 
hours ! 

Thus  ended  Little  Sunshine's  Holiday.  It 
is  told  just  as  it  happened,  to  amuse  other  lit- 
tle people,  who  no  doubt  are  as  fond  as  she  is 
of  hearing  "  stories."  Only  this  is  not  a  story, 
but  the  real  truth.  Not  the  whole  truth,  of 
course,  for  that  would  be  breaking  in  upon 
what  grown-up  people  term  "  the  sanctities  of 
private  life."  But  there  is  no  single  word  in 
it  which  is  not  true.  I  hope  you  will  like  it, 
little  people,  simple  as  it  is.  And  so,  good- 
bye! 


THE   END. 


ABBOTTS'  JUVENILE  BOOKS. 


THE   FRANCONIA   STORIES. 

By  Jacob  Abbott.  In  Ten  Volumes.  Beautifully  Illus- 
trated. 16mo,  Cloth,  90  cents  per  Vol. ;  the  set  complete, 
in  case,  $9  00. 

Each  volume  is  a  distinct  and  independent  work,  having  no  nec- 
essary connection  of  incidents  with  those  that  precede  or  follow  it, 
while  yet  the  characters,  and  the  scenes  in  which  the  stories  are  laid, 
are  the  same  in  all.  They  present  pleasing  pictures  of  happy  do- 
mestic life,  and  are  intended  not"  only  to  amuse  and  entertain  the 
children  who  shall  peruse  them,  but  to  furnish  them  with  attractive 
lessons  of  moral  and  intellectual  instruction,  and  to  train  their  hearts 
to  habits  of  ready  and  cheerful  subordination  to  duty  and  law. 

1.  Malleville.  6.  Stuyvesant. 

2.  Mary  Bell.  7.  Agnes. 

3.  Ellen  Linn.  8.  Mary  Erskine. 

4.  Wallace.  9.  Rodolphus. 

5.  Beechnut.  10.  Caroline. 


YOUNG   CHRISTIAN   SERIES. 

By  Jacob  Abbott.  In  Four  Volumes.  Richly  Illus- 
trated with  Engravings,  and  Beautifully  Bound.  12mo, 
Cloth,  $1  75  per  Vol.  The  set  complete,  Cloth,  $7  00;  in 
Half  Calf,  $14  00. 

1.  The  Young  Christian. 

2.  The  Corner  Stone. 

3.  The  Way  to  Do  Good. 

4.  Hoaryhead  and  M'Donner. 

It  is  superfluous  to  speak  of  the  rare  merits  of  Mr.  Abbott's  writ- 
ings on  the  subject  of  practical  religion.  Their  extensive  circula- 
tion, not  only  in  our  own  country,  but  in  England,  Scotland,  Ireland, 
France,  Germany,  Holland,  India,  and  at  various  missionary  stations 
throughout  the  globe,  evinces  the  excellence  of  their  plan,  and  the 
felicity  with  which  it  has  been  executed.  In  unfolding  the  different 
topics  which  he  takes  in  hand,  Mr.  Abbott  reasons  clearly,  concisely, 
and  to  the  point ;  but  the  severity  of  the  argument  is  always  re- 
lieved by  a  singular  variety  and  beauty  o£  illustration.  It  is  this 
admirable  combination  of  discussion  with  incident  that  invests  his 
writings  with  an  almost  equal  charm  for  readers  of  every  diversity 
of  age  and  culture. 


Abbotts'  Juvenile  Books. 


HARPER'S   STORY   BOOKS. 

A  Series  of  Narratives,  Biographies,  and  Tales,  for  the  In- 
struction and  Entertainment  of  the  Young.  By  Jacob  Ab- 
bott. Embellished  with  more  than  One  Thousand  beauti- 
ful Engravings.  Square  4to,  complete  in  12  large  Volumes, 
or  36  small  ones. 

"Hakpeb'b  Stoky  Books"  can  be  obtained  complete  in  Twelve 
Volumes,  bound  in  blue  and  gold,  eacb  one  containing  Three  Sto- 
ries, for  $21 00,  or  in  Thirty-six  thin  Volumes,  bound  in  crimson  and 
gold,  each  containing  One  Story,  for  $32  40.  The  volumes  may  be 
had  separately — the  large  ones  ft  $1  T5  each,  the  others  at  90  cents 
each. 

VOL.   I. 
BRUNO ;  or,  Lessons  of  Fidelity,  Patience,  and  Self-De- 
nial Taught  by  a  Dog. 
"WILLIE  AND  THE  MORTGAGE  :    showing  How 

Much  may  be  Accomplished  by  a  Boy. 
THE  STRAIT  GATE;  or,  The  Rule  of  Exclusion  from 
Heaven. 

VOL.  II. 
THE   LITTLE   LOUVRE;    or,  The  Boys'  and  Girls' 

Picture-Gallery. 
PRANK ;  or,  The  Philosophy  of  Tricks  and  Mischief. 
EMMA ;  or,  The  Three  Misfortunes  of  a  Belle. 

VOL.  III. 

VIRGINIA  ;  or,  A  Little  Light  on  a  Very  Dark  Saying. 

TIMBOO  AND  JOL1BA  ;  or,  The  Art  cf  Being  Useful. 

TIMBOO  AND  FANNY;  or,  The  Art  of  Self-Instruc- 
tion. 

VOL.  IV. 

THE  HARPER  ESTABLISHMENT ;  or,  How  the 
Story  Books  are  Made. 

FRANKLIN,  the  Apprentice-Boy. 

THE  STUDIO  ;  or,  Illustrations  of  the  Theory  and  Prac- 
tice of  Drawing,  for  Young  Artists  at  Home. 

VOL.  V. 

THE  STORY  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY,  from  the 
Earliest  Periods  to  the  Pall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

THE  STORY  OF  ENGLISH  HISTORY,  from  the 
Earliest  Periods  to  the  American  Revolution. 

THE  STORY  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY,  from 
the  Earliest  Settlement  of  the  Country  to  the  Establish- 
ment of  the  Federal  Constitution. 


Abbotts'  Juvenile  Boohs. 


VOL.  VI. 
JOHN  TRUE  ;  or,  The  Christian  Experience  of  an  Hon- 
est Boy. 
ELFRED  ;  or,  The  Blind  Boy  and  his  Pictures. 
THE  MUSEUM ;  or,  Curiosities  Explained.    • 

VOL.  VII. 
THE  ENGINEER;  or,  How  to  Travel  in  the  Woods. 
RAMBLES  AMONG  THE  ALPS. 
THE  THREE  GOLD  DOLLARS ;  or,  An  Account  of 
the  Adventures  of  Robin  Green. 

VOL.  VIII. 
THE   GIBRALTAR  GALLERY:  being  an  Account 

of  various  Things  both  Curious  and  Useful. 
THE  ALCOVE :   containing  some  Farther  Account  of 

Timboo,  Mark,  and  Fanny. 
DIALOGUES   for  the  Amusement  and  Instruction,  of 

Young  Persons. 

VOL.  IX. 
THE  GREAT  ELM ;  or,  Eobin  Green  and  Josiah  Lane 

at  School. 
AUNT    MARGARET ;  or,  How  John  True   kept   his 

Resolutions. 
VERNON ;  or,  Conversations  about  Old  Times  in  E.  gl  .nd. 

VOL.  X. 
CARL  AND  JOCKO  ;  or,  The  Adventures  of  the  Little 

Italian  Boy  and  his  Monkey. 
LAPSTONE ;  or,  The  Sailor  turned  Shoemaker. 
ORKNEY,  THE  PEACEMAKER;  or,  The  Various 

Ways  of  Settling  Disputes. 

VOL.  XL 
JUDGE  JUSTIN;  or,  The  Little  Court  of  Morningdale. 
MINIGO  ;  or,  The  Fairy  of  Cairnstone  Abbey. 
JASPER ;  or,  The  Spoiled  Child  Recovered. 

VOL.  XII. 
CONGO ;  or,  Jasper's  Experience  in  Command. 
VIOLA  and  her  Little  Brother  Amo. 
LITTLE  PAUL ;  or,  How  to  be  Patient  in  Sickness  and 
Pain. 

Some  of  the  Story  Books  are  written  particularly  for  girls,  and 
some  for  Boys,  and  the  different  Volumes  are  adapted  to  various 
aees,  so  that  the  work  forms  a  Complete  Library  of  Story  Books  for 
all  the  Children  of  the  Family  and  the  Sunday-School.  • 


Abbotts'  Juvenile  Books. 


ABBOTTS'  ILLUSTRATED  HISTORIES. 

Biographical  Histories.  By  Jacob  Abbott  and  John  S. 
C.Abbott.  The  Volumes  of  this  Series  are  printed  and 
hound  uniformly,  and  are  emhellished  with  numerous  Engrav- 
ings. 16mo,  Cloth,  $1  20  per  volume.  Price  of  the  set  (30 
vols.),  $36  00. 

A  series  of  volumes  containing  severally  full  accounts  of  the  lives, 
characters,  and  exploits  of  the  most  distinguished  sovereigns,  po- 
tentates, and  rulers  that  have  been  chiefly  renowned  among  man- 
kind, in  the  various  ages  of  the  world,  from  the  earliest  periods  to 
the  present  day. . 

The  successive  volumes  of  the  series,  though  they  each  contain 
the  life  of  a  single  individual,  and  constitute  thus  a  distinct  and  in- 
dependent work,  followeach  other  in  the  maiu,  in  regular  historical 
order,  and  each  one  continues  the  general  narrative  of  history  dowu 
to  the  period  at  which  the  next  volume  takes  up  the  story ;  so  that 
the  whole  series  presents  to  the  reader  a  connected  narrative  of  the 
line  of  general  history  from  the  present  age  back  to  the  remotest 
times. 

The  narratives  are  intended  to  be  succinct  and  comprehensive,  and 
are  written  in  a  very  plain  and  simple  style.  They  are,  however,  not 
juvenile  in  their  character,  nor  intended  exclusively  for  the  young. 
The  volumes  are  sufficiently  large  to  allow  each  history  to  comprise 
all  the  leading  facts  in  the  life  of  the  personage  who  is  the  subject 
of  it,  and  thus  to  communicate  all  the  information  in  respect  to  him 
which  is  necessary  for  the  purposes  of  the  general  reader. 

Such  being  the  design  and  character  of  the  works,  they  would 
Beem  to  be  specially  adapted,  not  only  for  family  reading,  but  also 
for  district,  town,  school,  and  Sunday-school  libraries,  as  well  as  for 
text-books  in  literary  seminaries. 

The  plan  of  the  series,  and  the  manner  in  which  the  design  has 
been  carried  out  by  the  author  in  the  execution  of  it,  have  been  high- 
ly commended  by  the  press  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  whole 
series  has  been  introduced  into  the  school  libraries  of  several  of  the 
largest  and  most  influential  states. 


Abeaham  Lincoln's  Opinion  of  Abbotts'  Histories.— In  a  con- 
versation with  the  President  just  before  his  death,  Mr.  Lincoln  said:  "I 
want  to  thank  you  and  your  brother  for  Abbotts'"  series  of  Histories.  1 
have  not  education  enough  to  appreciate  the  profound  works  of  volu- 
minous historians ;  and  if  I  had,  I  have  no  time  to  read  them.  But 
your  series  of  Histories  gives  me,  in  brief  compass,  just  that  knowledge 
of  past  men  and  events  which  I  need.  I  have  read  them  with  the  great- 
est interest.  To  them  I  am  indebted  fur  about  all  the  historical  knowl- 
edge J  have." 


Abbotts  Juvenile  Books. 


CYRUS  THE  GREAT. 
DARIUS  THE  GREAT. 
XERXES. 

ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT. 
ROMULUS. 
HANNIBAL. 
PYRRHUS. 
JULIUS  C-ESAR.  • 
CLEOPATRA. 
NERO. 

ALFRED  THE  GREAT. 
WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR 
RICHARD  I. 
RICHARD  II. 
RICHARD  III. 
MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS. 
•QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 
CHARLES  I. 
CHARLES  II. 
JOSEPHINE. 
MARIA  ANTOINETTE. 
MADAME  ROLAND. 
HENRY  IV. 
PETER  THE  GREAT. 
GENGHIS  KHAN. 
KING  PHILIP. 
HERNANDO  CORTEZ. 
MARGARET  OF  ANJOU. 
JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 
QUEEN  HORTENSE. 
LOUIS   XIV. 


6  Abbotts'  Juvenile  Boohs. 

MARCO   PAUL   SERIES. 

Marco  Paul's  Voyages  and  Travels  in  the  Pursuit  of 
Knowledge.  By  Jacob  Abbott.  Beautifully  Illustrated. 
Complete  in  6  Volumes,  16mo,  Cloth,  90  cents  per  Volume. 
Price  of  the  set,  in  case,  $5  40. 

In  New  York. 

On  the  Erie  Canal. 

In  the  Forests  of  Maine. 

In  Vermont. 

In  Boston. 

At  the  Springfield  Armory. 

The  design  of  these  volumes  is  not  simply  to  present  a  narrative 
of  juvenile  adventures,  but  also  to  communicate,  in  connection  with 
them,  a  knowledge  of  the  geography,  scenery,  and  customs  of  the 
sections  of  country  over  which  the  young  traveler  is  conducted. 
Marco  Paul  makes  his  journeyings  under  the  guidance  of  a  well-in- 
formed tutor,  who  takes  care  to  give  him  all  the  information  which 
he  needs.  The  narrative  is  rendered  still  farther  attractive  by  the 
introduction  of  personal  incidents  which  would  naturally  befall  the 
actors  of  the  story.  No  American  child  can  read  this  series  without 
delight  and  instruction.  But  it  will  not  be  confined  to 'the  juvenile 
library.  Presenting  a  vivid  commentary  on  American  society,  man- 
ners, scenery,  and  institutions,  it  has  a  powerful  charm  for  readers 
of  all  ages. 


RAINBOW  AND   LUCKY   SERIES. 

By  Jacob  Abbott.*  Beautifully  Illustrated.  16mo,  Cloth, 
90  cents  each. 

Handie.. 

Rainbow's  Journey. 
The  Three  Pines. 
Selling  Lucky. 
Up  the  River. 

A  new  series  of  Juvenile  Stories,  by  one  of  the  most  popular 
of  American  writers  for  young  people.  It  abounds  in  the  familiar 
details,  lively  descriptions,  and  happy  illustrations,  which  give  such 
an  interest  to  Mr.  Abbott's  writings  for  young  people. 


Abbotts'  Juvenile  Books 


THE  LITTLE  LEARNER  SERIES. 

A  Series  for  Very  Young  Children.  Designed  to  Assist  in 
the  Earliest  Development  of  the  Mind  of  a  Child,  while  under 
its  Mother's  Special  Care,  during  the  first  Five  or  Six  Years 
of  its  Life.  By  Jacob  Abbott.  Beautifully  Illustrated. 
Complete  in  5  Small  4to  Volumes,  Cloth,  90  cents  per  Vol. 
Price  of  the  set,  in  case,  $-t  50. 


LEARNING  TO  TALK ;  or,  Entertaining  and  Instruct- 
ive Lessons  in  the  Use  of  Language.     1 70  Engravings. 

LEARNING  TO  THINK:  consisting  of  Easy  and  En- 
tertaining Lessons,  designed  to  Assist  in  the  First  Unfold- 
ing of  the  Reflective  and  Reasoning  Powers  of  Children. 
120  Engravings. 

LEARNING  TO  READ ;  consisting  of  Easy  and  En- 
tertaining Lessons,  designed  to  Assist  Young  Children  in 
Studying  the  Forms  of  the  Letters,  and  in  beginning  to 
Read.     160  Engravings. 

LEARNING   ABOUT    COMMON   THINGS;  or, 

Familiar  Instruction  for  Children  in  respect  to  the  Ob- 
jects around  them  that  attract  their  Attention  and  awaken 
their  Curiosity  in  the  Earliest  Years  of  Life.  120  En- 
gravings. 

LEARNING  ABOUT  RIGHT  AND  WRONG;  or, 

Entertaining  and  Instructive  Lessons  tor  Young  Children 
in  respect  to  their  Duty.     90  Engravings. 


Abbotts'  Juvenile  Books. 


KINGS  AND   QUEENS. 

KINGS  AND  QUEENS ;  or,  Life  in  the  Palace :  con- 
sisting of  Historical  Sketches  of  Josephine  and  Maria  Lou- 
isa, Louis  Philippe,  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  Nicholas,  Isa- 
bella II.,  Leopold,  Victoria,  and  Louis  Napoleon.  By 
John  S.  C.  Abbott.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  12mo, 
Cloth,  $1  75. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  obtain  accurate  information  respectiug 
the  character  and  conduct  of  those  who  occupy  thrones.  The  views 
of  writers  are  so  influenced  by  political  predilections,  that  the  same 
character  is  represented  by  one  as  an  angel,  and  by  another  as  a 
demon.  The  author  of  these  pages  has  spared  no  pains  to  obtain 
as  correct  knowledge  as  possible  of  the  distinguished  individuals  of 
whom  he  has  written,  and  he  has  introduced  no  illustrative  actions 
which  have  not  appeared  to  him  to  be  well  authenticated. 


A  SUMMER  IN  SCOTLAND. 

A  SUMMER  IN  SCOTLAND  ■  a  Narrative  of  Ob- 
servations and  Adventures  made  by  the  Author  during  a 
Summer  spent  among  the  Glens  and.  Highlands  in  Scot- 
land. By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated  with  En- 
gravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  SPANISH  HISTORY. 

THE  ROMANCE  OP  SPANISH  HISTORY.    By 

John  S.  C.  Abbott,  Author  of  "The  French  Revolution," 
"The  History  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,"  &c.  With  Illus- 
trations.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 


Miss  Sedgwick's  Works 


•-  Miss  Sedgwick  has  marked  individuality  ;  she  writes  with  a  highei 
aim  than  merely  to  amuse.  Indeed,  the  rare  endowments  of  her  mind 
depend  in  an  unusual  degree  upon  the  moral  qualities  with  which  they 
are  united  for  their  value.  Animated  by  a  cheerful  philosophy,  and 
anxious  to  pour  its  sunshine  into  every  place  where  there  is  lurking 
care  or  suffering,  she  selects  for  illustration  the  scenes  of  every-day  ex- 
perience, paints  them  with  exact  fidelity,  and  seeks  to  diffuse  over  the 
mind  a  delicious  serenity,  and  in  the  heart  kind  feelings  and  sympa. 
thies,  and  wise  ambition,  and  steady  hope.  Her  style  is  colloquial,  pic- 
turesque, and  marked  by  a  facile  grace,  which  is  evidently  a  gift  of  na- 
ture. Her  characters  are  nicely  drawn  and  delicately  contrasted ;  her 
delineation  of  manners  decidedly  the  best  that  have  appeared. — Pross 
Writers  of  America. 


M 


•EMOIR  OF  JOSEPH  CURTIS.  A  Model 
Man.  By  the  Author  of  "  Married  or  Sin- 
;le?"  "Means  and  Ends,"  "The  Linwoods," 
'Hope  Leslie,"  "Live  and  Let  Live,"  &c,  &o 
6mo,  Muslin,  75  cents. 


M 


ARRIED    OR    SINGLE?     By   Miss    Catha, 
rine  M.  Sedgwick,  Author  of  "  Hope  Leslie," 
"The  Linwoods,"  "Means  and  Ends,"  "Live 
and  Let  Live,"  &c,  &c.      2  vols.  i2mo,  Mus- 
lin, $3  co. 


MISS  SEDGWICK'S  WORKS. 

IVE  AND  LET  LIVE ;    or,  Domestic  Service 

Illustrated.     By  Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick,  i  8mo, 
Muslin,  75  cents. 


lyf  EANS  AND  ENDS  j  or,  Self-training.    By  Miss 
C.  M.  Sedgwick.      i8mo,  Muslin,  75  cents. 


A     LOVE  TOKEN  FOR  CHILDREN.   De 

signed  for  Sunday-School  Libraries.      By  Miss 
C.  M.  Sedgwick.      i8mo,  Muslin,  To  cents. 


npHE  POOR  RICH  MAN  AND  THE  RICH 
POOR    MAN.      By   Miss    C.  M.  Sedgwick. 
i8mo,  Muslin,  75  cents. 


QTORIES  FOR  YOUNG  PERSONS.     By  Mist 
C.  M.  Sedgwick.      i8mo,  Muslin,  75  cents. 


ILTON  HARVEY,  AND  OTHER  TALES. 
By  Mi: 

75  cents. 


w 

By  Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick.      i8mo,  Muslin 


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